


Eyes Closed, Head First

by never_love_a_wild_thing



Series: On the Same Side [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternative Universe - FBI, But He Gets Better, Canon Temporary Character Death, Drug Addiction, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, F/M, Inspired by White Collar, Lack of Communication, M/M, Manipulative Theo, Mason is a Good Friend, Minor Character Death, POV Multiple, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, Theo Raeken Feels, Theo is not a great person, Trust Issues, Violence, but it's only for like 2 minutes, drug lord! theo raeken, drug overdose, previous Liam Dunbar/Hayden Romaro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13413009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/never_love_a_wild_thing/pseuds/never_love_a_wild_thing
Summary: Liam has been after Theo Raeken, elusive drug lord and constant pain in his ass, since he started working with the FBI. When Theo starts acting strangely, Liam realizes that he might just be the only one who can help him, even if it means finding a way to get Theo to turn himself in.This is more or less a prequel to Black Diamond, although they can absolutely be read separately!





	1. Liam

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited for this fic! For those of you coming from Black Diamond, I hope this meets your expectations!  
> I'm planning on updating every Thursday, and the idea is that each chapter will alternate between Liam and other characters. Hopefully there will also be one more fic between this one and Black Diamond, that's the plan, anyways. I also have no idea how long this fic will be, but most likely at least 20k. I haven't finished it yet (obviously) so I'll be updating the tags as I go.  
> Also, if you haven't guessed, the title is from Brooklyn Nine-Nine: "Eyes open, head first, can't lose." - Jake Peralta is a constant source of wisdom (?). I struggled so hard with the title tbh and then just kind of gave up, so...  
> Anyways, just so you know, I am pretty new to the lovely Thiam ship, so I'm just sort of making things up as I go. Honestly, Thiam isn't much of a romantic relationship at this point in the story, but they obviously will be interacting and working together, and a lot of other characters and relationships will be explored (unlike Black Diamond, where there pretty much in a cozy little Thiam bubble the entire time), so if you're looking for fluff, there will definitely be some with Stydia, Scalia, and Morey, at the very least.  
> As we all know, I don't own Teen Wolf or anything, I just love it a lot!  
> Enjoy reading and feel free to comment what you think!

“Liam, you gotta get up, man,” Mason said. Liam felt him push his shoulder and groaned in reply. His heart hurt too much. And also his head. He was a little nauseous too. “Come on,” Mason insisted, “If you don’t get into the office today, Scott said he would come check on you. Do you really want him to see you like this?”

Liam groaned again. His limbs were so heavy. “She’s gone,” he moaned, “Hayden’s gone.”

He heard Mason sigh and drop into the armchair next to the sofa that Liam was sprawled across. “You had to know it was a long time coming, Liam,” he said, “Can you please just consider –“

The doorbell rang. Neither of them moved.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get it. No need to answer your own front door,” Mason muttered under his breath. Liam heard him stand up and then go into the hallway. The door opened and then swung shut just a few seconds later.

“Dude!” The confusion in Mason’s voice made Liam look up. He was holding a six-pack of Liam’s favorite beer, a tub of chocolate ice cream, and a letter.

“What?” Liam asked stupidly.

Mason chucked the letter at him and set the beer on the coffee table. He pried the lid off of the ice cream, taking a peak at it, and then carried it into the kitchen.

“Who gave this to you?” Liam called after him, flipping the envelope over and over. It was blank on both sides, and not heavy enough to contain a card.

Mason reappeared in the doorway. “Nobody. It was at the top of your steps.”

Liam looked at him curiously, and then ripped the envelope open. At first he thought it was empty, but then a sliver of computer paper fell out onto his lap. The type on it was in Arial, and there was no indicator as to who it was from, but Liam knew immediately. He sat up.

“What does it say?” Mason wondered, moving back to his armchair.

“ _Sorry to hear about Hayden. Crack open a cold one for me._ And then it has an emoji. The kissy-winky one.”

Mason frowned at him in confusion.

“It’s from Raeken,” Liam explained. He pushed the accumulated trash off of himself and then looked around for his phone. He could feel the blood running through his veins again. “I need to call Stiles, see if he has any footage of the street. We might be able to track him back to somewhere this time.”

“Uh, Liam?” Mason started warily.

Liam ignored him, still trying to find his phone among the pile of blankets and food wrappers.

“Look, I’m happy that you’re finally getting off your ass an everything, and I definitely don’t want to burst this bubble you’ve got going here, but –“

Liam turned to look at him. “You don’t think I can find him!” he squinted accusatorily at his best friend.

“No!” Mason quickly retracted, “It’s not that, I just – I mean, you’ve been after him for over a year. He’s not just going to slip up this one time.”

Liam grinned, which seemed to scare Mason a little. Going from the fact that he hadn’t showered or shaved in days, had food stains all over his clothes, and his hair was probably sticking up in all directions, Liam wasn’t sure he could blame him. “That’s exactly it, Mason! Don’t you see? He only has to slip up one time – one time! And I’ll catch him. Because I’m watching.” His eye might have been twitching.

Mason stared in horror, and Liam snatched his phone from between the couch cushions, ignoring all of the unread texts and unopened voicemails, and going straight for Stiles Stilinski’s contact. It rang exactly two and a half times before he picked up.

“Stiles. Don’t bother trying to pronounce my given name.”

“It’s Liam,” Liam said, slightly put out for a moment, “You have my contact in your phone.”

“Yep,” Stiles said cheerfully, “What can I do for you Liam?”

“Raeken just left a gift at my door. I’m coming in in like 10 minutes. Can you get CCTV footage of my street by then?”

“Not really my job, dude. Ask Mason.”

“Mason’s coming in with me.”

“We’ll be there in an hour!” Mason shouted. Liam glared at him. “Dude, you need to shower. You look like a mess. And not even a hot one…you kind of smell like one too.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “We’ll be in in an hour. Can you do it?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s gonna cost you.”

“What this time?” Liam groaned.

“Hmm…Curly fries from Mo’s Diner, a smoothie for Scott. The green kind, you know?”

“Got it,” he sighed, resigned to being sent back and forth across town.

“Oh and Lydia’s coffee order. Don’t mess it up.” He hung up.

“Shit,” Liam swore.

“What’s up?” Mason asked, “Curly fries?”

“And Scott’s smoothie.”

“Oh, well that’s fine.”

“And Lydia’s coffee order.”

“Ouch. You better not mess that up,” Mason winced.

“Yeah, I know,” Liam sighed, “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

 

By the time he made it to the office with the fries, smoothie, and coffee, Scott was already waiting for him, leaning against the railing of the upper level, where the important people’s offices and conference rooms were. He straightened up wen he caught sight of Liam and Mason, pointed at them, and crooked his fingers at them. Liam walked straight past his desk and up the stairs.

“You doing okay?” Scott asked with a very concerned expression.

“I’m fine,” Liam said quickly. He supposed he wasn’t, really, but a lead on Raeken would keep him going for a while, at least.

“Okay,” Scott nodded, “Well, I’m assigning Malia to be in charge of Raeken’s case. Anything you need, go to her, okay?” Leave it to Scott to make _I’m practically benching you_ sound like _I’m giving you the best lifeline anyone could ask for_. Although Scott might be partial to his wife. “And I’m not benching you, either. I’m just cutting you some slack.”

“Okay,” Liam deflated a little. Scott knew _everything_. “Does Stiles the footage yet?”

“Course!” Scott smiled, eyes scrunching and dimples peeping out. Liam always thought it made him look more like a puppy than the Special Agent in Charge, but it was always better than his _I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed face_. Liam had almost killed him once (it was an accident!) and gotten that face for a week straight. “Hey, is that smoothie for me?”

Liam handed it over, and followed Scott to Stiles’s office.

“Hey! Only half an hour late!” Stiles grinned when he walked in. “Hey, Lydia!” he shouted. Across the room, Lydia looked up, already unimpressed. “Liam brought you coffee.”

Lydia swept out of her chair and crossed to Liam, giving him a sweet smile before whisking the coffee cup away.

“Hey, wait…did you extort my smoothie from Liam?” Scott frowned at the green drink in hurt at its betrayal.

“It was a fair trade,” Stiles made grabby-hands for his curly fries, which Liam also passed over. “Lydia?”

“They used soy milk instead of almond milk,” she said after a second, “But it will do.”

Stiles gaped after her as she retreated back to the work she had been doing earlier. “ _It will do?_ ” He demanded.

“Stiles,” Scott called his attention back as Lydia smiled into her coffee, “What do we have?”

“Right,” Stiles swung back to his computers, frowning. “Your boy Raeken came from the south end of the street.” He reversed through the footage to demonstrate. “I was able to trace him back the Center, but he gets lost right about here.” He paused at a grainy image of the City Center filled with people.

Liam slumped in defeat. He had really thought he was close this time.

“Stiles, tell them the rest before Liam goes back to sulking,” Lydia admonished, sipping at her coffee.

Liam looked over at her. She wasn’t really even paying attention, writing what looked like an incredibly complex equation in marker on the glass board. “I wasn’t sulking –“ he protested, and then checked himself, “Wait, there’s more?”

“Lydia ran an algorithm or two and we figured the greatest likelihood was that he drove into the City Center or got a cab,” Stiles said, back tracking through some more footage, and pausing on a frame of a car with a partially visible plate.

“But that’s not like him. That’s a private car. He doesn’t drive, and he only ever takes taxis, which he pays for double in cash,” Liam frowned, writing down the partial plate anyways.

“Can we track it?” Mason asked.

“ _Can we track it_ , he says,” Stiles snorted, swiveling around in his chair again to face them, “Of course we can track it, but it’s probably a dead end. The kid keeps everybody’s pockets so well-greased they could make me some more curly fries in their pants.” He tossed the empty container aside with a gleam in his eye. “That’s an idea. Hey, Lydia –“

“No,” she said, continuing to write.

“Scotty?”

“Run the plate,” Scott said, slurping down more of his smoothie, “It might come to nothing, but I think Liam has a point about this not being Raeken’s M.O. He doesn’t usually leave this much of a trail.” The phone in Scott’s office next door started to ring. “Send everything to Malia. She’s working with Liam.”

“You sure, dude?” Stiles frowned, “Isn’t she – “

“She can do it,” Scott said, and disappeared out the door.

“What was that about?” Liam questioned, unable to help himself.

“Mind your own beeswax,” Stiles said immediately, “Mason, run the plates. I’m going to run forwards through the footage to see where he’s going next.”

Liam ended up in Malia’s office half an hour later, with papers spread all over her desk and pinned haphazardly to her walls.

“He left you ice cream?”

“And beer,” Liam added.

She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

Liam shrugged. “I think he thought it was funny.”

She stared at him for a solid two minutes. “I don’t get it.”

He shrugged again. Malia could be abrasive and too up-front sometimes, but she was very good at her job, and counter-balanced Scott almost as well as Stiles did. She had also done an impressively long stint of undercover work right before she met Scott, which gave her a leg up on understanding the minds of criminals. The story went that Scott had been the one to bust the operation that Malia was working on, back when he worked in the field more often than he did now. He had known that there was an undercover operative, but he didn’t know who, and Malia had gotten so good at her cover that he chased her down an alley, pulled his gun, and eventually arrested her before realizing that they were on the same side. The unofficial story was that she also dated Stiles for a year, waited another year, and _then_ went out with Scott. Somehow there had never even been any hard feelings. _That,_ Liam didn’t get.

“Alright,” she sighed, “Mason found the car at a parking garage on 5th. You can go check that out. Looks like we lost him in the Center again. He went back the same way he came.”

“Alright,” Liam agreed, “Do I need to take someone?”

“No?” She raised an eyebrow, “Do you need a babysitter?”

“No,” he said quickly, “I just – nope! I’m off! Bye!” He darted out of her office before she could change her mind.

Fifth street was a cramped but fairly empty side street, one side littered with overflowing trash cans. Liam crossed the street into the obscure parking garage, and went to the attendant’s desk, flashing his badge. “I need to take a look at one of the cars you have parked here.”

“You have a warrant?”

Liam passed it over.

The attendant sighed heavily, and got up. “Right this way.”

They took the elevator down to the second level, and the attendant held the door for him. “Third row down, right in the middle,” he instructed.

Liam nodded, and started quickly down the rows. The car was small and black with dark tinted windows. Much classier than Raeken usually went for. He reached out to open the door, heard a woosh, and felt a sudden stinging pain to the side of his head before passing out.

 

“Sorry about that,” a voice warbled Liam into consciousness, “I had to get you here without giving anything away.”

He blinked his eyes open to see Theo Raeken sitting backwards on a wobbly-looking wooden chair, watching him. He tried to move, but his hands and feet were bound tightly. He was tied to another, much sturdier chair, and his head was still spinning.

Theo smirked. “I know what I’m doing, Liam. Give me a little credit.”

“What do you want?” Liam seethed.

“I just want to talk,” he drummed his fingers on the back of the chair, “Did you like my present?”

“Why?” he gritted out.

“Why not?” Theo shrugged, “Heartache’s a bitch.”

“Not that you would know,” he shot back, “You’d have to have a heart.”

Theo snorted. “You might have a point. Anyways, I didn’t bring you here to talk about Hayden.”

Liam struggled harder at the sound of her name. He hated it on Theo’s lips.

Theo leaned forward. “I have a little problem, Liam. Take my word for it when I say _you don’t want to be involved_.”

Liam hesitated, forgetting his aggression for a minute. “What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ ,” Theo insisted, “Find some other little case to follow for a while. Don’t try to catch me. You might end up dead – or worse.”

“Is that a threat?”

Theo smirked again. “As much as I like leading you around, Liam, I don’t actually want you dead.” The smirk looked a bit flat to Liam.

“Something’s going on,” he realized. “No, you _do_ have a problem.”

Theo stood up from his chair so quickly that he almost fell over. He stormed across the little cement room to a small metal table loaded with bottles and possibly various medical equipment. Liam couldn’t really tell. Theo grabbed a bottle and a rag and went back over to tower over Liam. “Leave me alone,” he growled, “I mean it.”

“If someone’s bothering you, I can help,” Liam said, quickly, watching as Theo drenched the rag in what was now clearly chloroform. “We can make a deal. You can help us catch them.”

Theo looked at him unguarded, just for a split second. Liam saw anger, fear, and a hint of sadness. “It’s for your own good. Keep out of it,” he said, before pressing the rag to Liam’s nose and mouth.


	2. Mason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's kind of short (I'm thinking that the ones that aren't Liam's probably will all be short), so I'm considering adding another update day to the schedule, maybe like Tuesday or something? No promises, though. I'm about five chapters in right now, but I don't want to rush this fic. Anyways, I guess that's just a heads up?
> 
> I think I forgot to mention this before, but the events in this fic are loosely based around season 5. Also, Beacon Hills is a big city like New York, and in my head a lot of the settings are like those in the show White Collar, if you've ever seen it.
> 
> Anyways, sorry about the ramble, and thanks so much for all of the lovely comments and kudos! Makes my day every time!
> 
> Enjoy!

Mason checked his phone for probably the fifth time in ten minutes.

“Uh, is everything okay?”

He stowed the phone quickly in his pocket and turned his attention a bit guiltily towards the guy next to him. Corey was amazing: funny and sweet and ridiculously attractive, but he had been trying to reach Liam for hours now, and it was starting to make him nervous. To make things worse, Corey had a bit of a look on his face like he was trying not to be disappointed, but honestly wasn’t surprised.

“No!” Mason said quickly, “I mean, yeah, everything’s okay…just, my friend went…to meet someone, and I haven’t heard from him in a couple of hours. It’s probably nothing.” He smiled at Corey, hoping that he wasn’t coming across badly. He didn’t necessarily like telling people that he just met that he worked for the FBI, particularly the stupidly attractive boys that lived around his neighborhood.

Corey frowned. “Maybe you should go check on him,” he suggested, doubtfully, “Where I’m from, it’s usually not nothing.”

Mason considered. It would look so bad if he bailed now, but… “Hey, do you want to come with me?”

“I don’t know…” Corey started, glancing at his empty drink and then the clock over the bar.

“Come on,” Mason put down the money for the drinks and stood up, “We’ll just go past his place and then we can get pizza or something.” He looked at Corey. “I mean,” he hesitated, “If you want to…it’s totally cool if you don’t.”

He seemed to waver for a minute and then shrugged. “Why not?” he smiled, “I’m having fun with you.”

Mason grinned. “Thank you!” he breathed, “I really didn’t want to end the night there…I’m having a lot of fun with you too, but Liam just got out of a serious relationship, and – “

Corey’s smile brightened considerably as they left the bar. “Oh, it’s Liam?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mason glanced at him a little self-consciously. He had been best friends with Liam practically all his life, and he sometimes felt like he ended up talking about him a little too much.

“You talk about him a lot,” Corey confirmed, “It’s nice that you have a friend like that. I thought…”

Mason waited for him to finish, but it didn’t seem like he was going to. “Did you think I had another Grindr date right after you?”

Corey shrugged embarrassed. “I hoped not,” he glanced over at him, “But you’re, you know, really smart and attractive and everything.”

Mason almost thought that Corey was being self-deprecating until he looked over to see a quirk of a smile at his lips. “Yeah, cause you’re not amazingly hot and sweet or anything,” he teased.

Corey smiled full-out, and Mason felt cool fingers slip into his hand. He grinned back, heart racing.

The lights were off at Liam’s apartment, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Mason led Corey up the steps and pressed the doorbell. Nothing. He could feel Corey watching him in worry, but he just banged on the door a few times and then pulled out his keys.

“He’s not the most responsible person,” Mason explained, hoping that him having a key to Liam’s house didn’t imply anything.

“No, yeah, I got that,” Corey agreed, releasing Mason’s hand so that he could unlock the door, which…wasn’t locked. Liam may be irresponsible, but he was still an FBI agent. In other words, this was not a good sign.

“Liam?” he called, flipping the hall light on as he went inside. There was no answer. He looked into the shadowy living room, Corey close at his heels. A Liam-sized lump was out cold on the sofa. He sighed in relief and turned on the living room lights as well. “Liam!”

Still no answer. Liam didn’t like to wake up, but he was still a pretty light sleeper. The lack of moaning and groaning and objects being half-heartedly thrown in his _not_ general direction was concerning.

“He’s not dead, is he?” Corey whispered.

Mason looked over his shoulder at him. “He better not be,” he said, reasonably, “And I’m thinking you don’t have to whisper.”

“Sorry,” Corey smiled embarrassedly, “Would you believe me if I told you this wasn’t my first B&E Grindr date?”

“From what you’ve told me about the guys in your neighborhood, yes,” Mason assured him. He went into the living room and smacked Liam over the head. He grunted and rolled over just a bit. “Liam!”

Liam sat bolt upright and then put a hand to his head, where a spectacular bruise was forming. “Raeken!” he gasped, looking like he might try to stand up.

“Whoa, dude. You better stay there,” Mason said, dropping to his knees in front of him. He heard Corey’s footsteps move further into the house and the light went on in the kitchen. He lowered his voice and quickly whispered, “What happened?”

“It was a trap,” Liam said quickly, “I went to check out the car and someone knocked me out and when I woke up, Theo was there, and…” he trailed off. “Hi?”

Corey was standing just behind Mason, holding a bag of peas. “Looks like it hurts,” Corey said, holding the bag out.

Mason handed it to Liam, and said, “Uh, Corey this is Liam. Liam, this is Corey, we are – _were_ on a date…”

“Still are,” Corey smiled a little, “Hopefully.”

Mason smiled back, and then forced himself to redirect his attention to Liam. “Are you okay? Do we need to get you to the hospital?” he asked.

Liam shook his head. “Didn’t hit me that hard. I need to get back to the office.”

“You need to _sleep_ ,” Mason told him.

“Just this morning you were telling me I needed to _stop_ sleeping,” Liam argued.

“Yeah, that’s about how it works,” Mason agreed cheerfully.

“I need to tell Scott. And Malia – “

“You could call them tomorrow morning,” Mason suggested.

Liam shook his head. “I think somethings wrong. I think…I think he needs our help.”

“ _He_ needs _our_ help?” Mason asked in disbelief.

“Uh…who are you talking about?” Corey asked, looking slightly worried.

“Theo Raeken,” Liam plowed on, flipping the bag of peas to press the colder side against his head. “We’ve been trying to catch him for years, but we can’t actually pin anything on him.”

Corey looked back and forth between them. “We?”

Mason tried desperately to convey to Liam that Corey _really_ didn’t need to know he was FBI, but there was a reason that Liam didn’t usually get to meet his dates.

“Oh, the FBI. Me, in particular, I guess, but Mason’s been super helpful!” He gave Mason the most unsubtle thumbs-up ever, and Mason did his best not to face-palm.

“Oh,” Corey said flatly. Mason looked at him, noticing that he now seemed slightly more nervous in a not exciting way. That was a lot of people’s reactions, honestly.

“Okay. You,” Mason pointed at Liam, “Are going to get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll talk about this _tomorrow_. _We_ are going to go get some pizza.” He glanced at Corey. “Maybe…”

Liam sighed, but walked them to the door. “You’re probably right,” he agreed, “As usual. Sorry for ruining your date.” He looked at Corey. “He’s the best guy ever, you should know that. But no pressure.”

“Thanks Liam,” Mason rolled his eyes, raising a hand in farewell as Liam closed the door. He jogged down the steps to meet Corey at the bottom. “Sorry. I should have told you,” he said, “It’s just, in my neighborhood people usually – “

“It’s okay,” Corey cut him off with a small smile, “I should get going though.”

Mason felt his heart sink a little. “Can I get you a cab at least?”

“Can we share?” Corey asked almost shyly.

“ _Yes_ ,” Mason smiled in relief, and they started down the street towards the main road.


	3. Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update! (Kind of). So idk if this is going to happen every week, or just whenever I feel like it, but I'm pretty far ahead with this fic, so I figured I'd update twice this week :) and yes there will be another update on Thursday!
> 
> Also, in case I haven't said this before, I don't really know all that much about drug cartels or how the FBI works, so bear with me, and let me know if anything seems weird or out of place.
> 
> Thanks for reading and enjoy!
> 
> (Oh, and Theo will be back soon, I promise!)

“So, it went okay,” Liam inferred.

“He hasn’t texted me back yet,” Mason complained. Liam did feel a little bad about basically ruining Mason’s date, but he found it hard to prioritize over whatever was going on with Theo. If he had thought more deeply about it, he might recognize that he was trying to avoid all talk about relationships, and possibly using Theo as a distraction, but he was far too busy to want to think like that.

“Because you’re FBI?” Liam frowned.

“No, I mean…I don’t know…” Mason poured some creamer into his coffee and Liam emptied his second packet of sugar.

“I don’t get it,” Liam shook his head.

“You sound like Malia.”

“Speaking of, I need to go tell her about what happened with Theo. You want to come?”

“I’m not on that case,” Mason reminded him.

“I could get you on it,” Liam offered.

“No. You couldn’t,” Mason told him, and walked off towards his desk.

Liam stared after him, offended. “I could,” he grumbled, and carried his coffee upstairs. He knocked on the door to Malia’s office, peeking in to see Scott perched on the corner of her desk, talking, as she swiveled back and forth in her chair, smiling up at him.

“Liam!” she said, as soon as she caught sight of him, “Do you have anything?”

“I-“ he looked to Scott, who was watching him with interest, “I can come back later…”

“No, I’d like to hear what you found,” Scott smiled easily.

“Okay, well, I went to check out that car yesterday…” Scott nodded for him to continue, “And somebody hit me over the head and knocked me out, and when I woke up, Raeken was there.”

“That explains the bruise,” Malia observed.

Scott frowned. “Are you okay? What did he want?”

“He was telling me to ease up on his case for a while,” Liam shrugged, “He seemed to think that it might be dangerous…to me…” Which had Liam wondering for probably the billionth time _why_ exactly he cared.

“So he’s just trying to get us off his back,” Malia threw out. Liam knew better than to assume that that was what she actually thought.

“I don’t think so,” he confessed, “Something seemed off. I think he’s in trouble.”

Scott watched him closely. “He’s the kingpin for one of the biggest drug cartels in the city,” he reminded him, “I’m sure he’s pretty much always in trouble.”

Liam took a sip of coffee to give himself time to think. “He just…seemed scared, almost.”

“Not an emotion you usually see on Raeken,” Scott agreed, glancing at Malia.

“We should find out more about this,” she said, “If he’s having problems with another cartel or something, maybe we can get him to make a deal.”

“I don’t think he would name names,” Liam disagreed.

“No, but we can protect him,” Scott said, sliding to his feet, “Look into this. I’ll check back in in a bit.” He gave Malia a dopey smile and was out the door.

“This is a good lead,” Malia said, taking a thick file off of her desk and tucking it into her locked desk drawer, “I’ll see if I can get any news out of my contacts. Stop in with Stiles and see if he or Mason can pull up footage of that parking garage. I’m pretty sure you didn’t hit yourself over the head.”

Liam nodded, and made his way to Stiles’s office. A short outburst, followed by hushed voices made him pause. He should really come back later. He should. He flicked open the file in his hands and sipped his coffee, pretending to be thinking.

“She’s not going to give up until she’s found her,” Scott’s voice said, confidently, if a little anxiously, “And I can’t just tell her what to do, anyways. She’s my wife, not my…”

“Employee?” he heard Stiles offer flatly.

“You know what I mean,” Scott sighed.

Liam should definitely not be listening to this.

“There might be a Marshall working her case. Do you think I should call-“

Movement from inside spurred Liam into motion, continuing down the hallway, trying not to look like he was running away, even though the lower level of the office had been able to see him the whole time.

“Yo, Liam,” Stiles called from behind him. He whipped around, trying not to look guilty. Scott was already disappearing into his office next to Stiles’s. “Let’s check out that garage!”

Liam nodded and followed him back into his office. “Alright,” Stiles cracked his knuckles, sitting down in front of his computers, “I got access to the garage’s footage, and their logs. Looks like you got there around 4pm…the car leaves about 4:15…” Liam watched the tiny figures zipping around on the screen as Stiles fast-forwarded. “And then nothing. Where did you wake up?”

“My house. Mason found me there,” Liam frowned, “Did Raeken risk dropping me off at my house?”

“Could’ve had somebody else do it. The attendant is in sight of the cameras the whole time, but it’s possible that whoever knocked you out was in the car when it went into the garage and probably drove it out as well. I’ll have Mason see if we can get any facial recognition.”

“Is it worth asking the attendant?” Liam wondered. Technically, Stiles was head of technological investigation, but his mind was build for solving cases, and more often than not, Scott or any other member of their division could be found in Stiles’s office, asking for advice. Officially, Lydia had a desk on the main floor, but she also had a glass equation board and a whiteboard wall in Stiles’s office, not to mention another desk. Given the amount that the two of them worked together, it was unsurprising. The surprising part was that it never seemed to put any strain on their marriage.

“Probably not,” Stiles swung back and forth in his chair, rolling a pen between his fingers, “I can take a look at the CCTV on your street, but I doubt that we’ll get much of a lead from there. Raeken doesn’t leave trails.”

“No,” Liam agreed, mind whirring. He could feel Stiles watching him.

“So, Raeken.”

“Yeah,” he said, absently.

“Probably got into a turf war with another gang, huh?”

Liam shook his head. “I’m not so sure…He seemed to think I would be in immediate danger if I stuck to his case.”

Stiles tapped the pen against his lips. “And he cares enough to tell _you_ in particular. In person.”

“Yeah,” Liam realized.

Stiles swung back around and started tapping at his keyboard. “Not a turf war,” Stiles decided, “We thought Raeken was the kingpin, but we might be wrong. Get Scott. SCOTT!”

Liam pulled up a chair, not bothering to get his boss, who Stiles would just shout for anyways. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Stiles ignored him, fingers flying. “Malia’s checking in with her contacts on the street, right? That’s good.  Somebody’s threatening Raeken. He’s not in control anymore,” he spun suddenly to look at Liam, “You saw it, right? When you talked to him?”

Liam nodded, realizing that all of those emotions – the anger, the fear, the sadness – they all came from the most devastating loss that Theo Raeken could suffer: loss of power. And it was happening now. “He’s trying to fight back, and he knows that people are going to get hurt,” he thought aloud, “Maybe he can use the FBI for leverage or to make a deal later on, and he’s protecting us as his last resort.”

“His last line of defense,” Stiles agreed, “SCOTT!”

“Should I get him?” Liam wondered.

Scott stumbled into the room, vaguely out of breath. “What? Is somebody dying?” he panted.

“Dumbass,” Stiles snorted fondly, “Where’s your wife? We have some theories on the Raeken case.”

“She’s out, but we can fill her in. What’s up?”

“We think that Raeken’s losing power. Someone else is in charge of him now, and he’s fighting it tooth and nail. If we can find out who it is, we might be able to wrangle a deal,” Liam told him, Stiles nodding in agreement as he scrolled through a google search.

“Okay,” Scott nodded, “See what you can find out. Malia will probably have more information when she gets back.” He almost left the room, but doubled back again, pointing a finger at Liam. “Don’t be rash about this. We have to think things through. Everything that happens, you report it to me or to Malia? Got it?”

“Yes sir,” Liam agreed, grimacing.

“Great,” Stiles said, “Now everybody get out of my office.”

 

Malia didn’t get back to the office before Liam and Mason left, but Scott didn’t seem particularly worried, and Stiles hadn’t found much of anything on the internet, much to his frustration. Liam filled Mason in on the general details as they walked to their favorite diner for dinner. It was just on the edge of Mason’s very sketchy neighborhood, but it had the perfect amount of grease, and the lack of curly fries or smoothies made of superfoods meant that they probably wouldn’t run into their superiors when they were grumbling about their workloads.

“Corey still hasn’t texted me,” Mason said, finally, a while after Liam had accepted that he would probably have to put up with hearing about it. That was what friends were for, he supposed.

“Maybe he’s busy today,” Liam shrugged, “What does he do?”

“He’s a nurse,” Mason recited, “At Beacon Hills Memorial. I just feel like I did something wrong…I should have told him I was FBI…”

“I _shouldn’t_ have told him,” Liam admitted, picking at his fries, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Mason sighed, “I mean, we met on Grindr and we had like one date, I don’t know why I’m so bothered.”

“He seemed cool, I guess,” Liam told him.

“Yeah…you doing okay, though?” Mason asked, watching him out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m fine,” he replied, a little aggressively.

“I mean, I know this case is taking your mind off things, but if you want to talk about it –“

“I’m _fine_ ,” Liam snapped, and Mason put his hands up in defense, easily changing topics.

 

Liam was not fine. When he went home, he scoured all of the drug-related news in the area, while mindlessly making his way through the tub of ice cream that Theo had left him. Eventually he hit the bottom with his spoon and realized that he had eaten most of the carton in one sitting. He put it on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch, opening his phone to check the time. The screen was still on Hayden’s contact. His finger hovered over the call button for a minute, but then he locked it and curled onto his side. Sure, this case was taking up almost all of his brain power, but he still hurt. His head ached constantly, and sometimes he just felt so overwhelmingly sad that all he wanted to do was lay on the floor and not move for the rest of forever. He mostly didn’t eat and drank a lot of coffee. The ice cream, he hadn’t realized, kind of helped, but that was probably more because he was hungry than anything.

After he had no idea how much time of laying listlessly on his side, he dragged himself up and grabbed the mostly melted ice cream. He went into the kitchen with the container and the spoon, snapping the lid back on and throwing the spoon into the sink. He opened the freezer and stuck the ice cream inside, starting at a noise from the window. He let the freezer door fall shut and moved across the kitchen. Just the wind on the fire escape. He closed the window, which…hadn’t been open before. He thrust the window back up and stuck his head out of it, looking up and down the fire escape and the alley behind the building. Everything was dark and quiet. He pulled himself back inside and slid the window shut again.

“Paranoid…” he muttered to himself, going back into the living room to clean up his work before getting ready for bed. When the fire escape rattled again, he ignored it.


	4. Malia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for all of the kudos and beautiful comments! This fic is getting kind of out of hand, but I love it so much, and it makes me so happy that you guys are enjoying it too! 
> 
> Do not worry! Theo will be back next chapter and then we'll have a Corey POV after that, so answers will come! (I might not do two updates next week just because I think I'm going to need to update again right after Corey's since it's a little...stressful...so his will probably be the Tuesday after next:) )
> 
> Enjoy!

“Stop crying,” Malia rolled her eyes, “I’m not going to kill you.”

“But you’ll turn me in,” her victim sniveled

“I won’t turn you in either. Or rat you out. Or arrest you. Now tell me what you know.” She didn’t need to get violent. Her reputation still preceded her.

“We’re getting different orders. More drugs are being brought in. People are disappearing. And there’s talk…Theo’s not in charge anymore. You go with him against _them_ , you get killed.”

She snarled. “I _meant_ about the other thing.”

“I don’t – I don’t know anything about that. She’s – that’s a different kind of business. I just sell the shit.” He quivered under her glare.

“Who _does_ know about it?” she persisted.

“I don’t know!” he cried, “He might. I think Theo knows her.”

She paused, narrowing her eyes. “Theo knows her,” she repeated.

“Maybe. Some of the higher ups. _They_ know. Word is, she carries out contracts for them sometimes.”

“Who is _they_?” Malia demanded.

“They’re in charge. I don’t know. That’s all I know. If you go higher –“

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go higher,” she rolled her eyes, “You better start getting useful soon, or I actually _will_ arrest you.” And with that, she left the building by the side door, walking around to pass the storefront, in the process of renovations for the past five years. It was getting dark now. She could try to get some more intel, but mostly she just wanted to go home. It wasn’t usually the greatest to leave Scott to deal with dinner alone. Not that she was any better at cooking, but the two of them made a pretty good team.

When she walked into their apartment, she was met with the smell of pasta sauce, almost over powered by garlic. “Scott?” she called out.

“In the kitchen!” he yelled in response. The fire alarm hadn’t started to go off yet, which was always a good sign.

She pulled off her boots and coat and went into the kitchen, where Scott was desperately stirring a pot of sauce. She wound her arms around him and met his lips for a quick kiss before resting her chin on his shoulder. “Hi,” she said, “How was your day?”

“Better now,” he grinned, his attention divided between her and the sauce, “How was yours?”

“Better now,” she agreed, “You probably don’t have to stir the whole time.”

“I keep almost burning it,” he told her, sheepishly. “At least the pasta’s done now. I was trying to stir them both at the same time, but I’m not ambidextrous.”

That made her smile and kiss him again. He kissed back, and she could feel the smile against her lips, until she reminded him that his sauce might be burning. He swore mildly and turned back to the pot.

“Did you make it from scratch?” she asked.

“Nah, it’s from a jar,” he admitted.

She reached past and turned off the heat. “Then I’m going to say it’s dinner time,” she declared.

Scott looked at the sauce and seemed to agree, giving it one last stir before emptying some dressing onto their salad, and tossing it while Malia started to dish up their plates.

“So, how’d it go?” Scott asked, as they sat down at the table.

Malia frowned. “I thought we weren’t talking about work at home,” she said, confused.

Scott looked temporarily confused too. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Never mind.”

She stared at him for a minute or two. “I didn’t get much,” she said, deciding suddenly that all of the books that Scott would occasionally bring home, that tried to tell them how to live their lives, were full of bullshit. If she wanted to talk about work with her husband, she would damn well do it. “I probably have to go higher, which is risky, but…”

“But?” Scott prompted, giving her a concerned, sympathetic, endlessly loving look, that made her so crazy about him.

“But there might be a connection with Raeken. Word is she carries out contracts for some group that he knows,” she dug into her pasta.

“Malia!” Scott was staring at her, “That’s probably what Liam was talking about! He said Theo was in trouble with someone…”

“Yes!” Malia jumped up, kissing him, “We can figure this out! We are so good at this!”

Scott laughed. “So good!” he agreed, “But why don’t you finish dinner before you head back out?”

She paused, realizing that she _had_ in fact been on her way to the door. “Oh! No, I’ll go tomorrow,” she sat back down, smiling warmly at him as they went back to their dinner. “I’m just really excited.”

Scott smiled back. “I know, me too.”

 

After her daily morning workout with Scott, Malia showered and headed out to meet with another old friend from the her time undercover. She sipped at her black coffee as she walked to the warehouse district. It was already past 7am, but this neighborhood tended to be deserted for most of the day.

“Malia,” a young woman fell into step beside her.

“Did you find anything out?” she asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“You know I don’t say this often, but stay out of it. It’s not worth your life.”

Malia stopped walking and frowned at her. “You’re not going to tell me?” she asked in disbelief.

The woman snorted. “Of _course,_ I’m going to tell you,” she said, “I just thought it was worth warning you.”

“Okay, so what is it?” she pressed.

“There’s a gang. They’re strong-arming everyone into submitting to their control.” She looked around subtly and lowered her voice. “They call themselves the Dread Doctors. They’re brutal. Unstoppable.”

“And what about the Desert Wolf?” she continued.

“Malia-“

“Divya,” she pressed, “I need to know. She murdered my family. She tried to murder me.”

Divya sighed. She had been Malia’s best friend the entire time she was undercover, but it was dangerous for her if they were seen together now that most of the drug game knew that she was FBI. They never knew much about each other, but Malia had also never been shy about wanting to find her birth mother. She would have whether she had ended up in the FBI or not.

“She might be working for them,” Divya relented, shrugging, hands in her pockets. “I don’t know. I only know what trickles down to me. They’re definitely putting out hits on people who disagree with them, though.”

Malia wondered for a second if that was what had Raeken so nervous, but pressed on. “They need to hire a contract killer to do house cleaning?” she asked, “I would have thought they would have hired muscle for that.”

“For the important ones,” Divya explained, “How do you think they’re taking down the big bosses? Most of them aren’t just handing over the miniature empires that they’ve build.”

“What about Theo Raeken?” Malia tried, knowing it was a long shot. It might be a while before she could talk to Divya again.

She shook her head. “I don’t associate with Theo,” she said, “I don’t need that in my life. People that cunning and power hungry, you don’t trust.” She looked at Malia. “Theo, the Desert Wolf, and the Dread Doctors. I don’t like that combination.”

“Neither do I,” Malia admitted.

“Be careful?” Divya asked.

“I will if you will,” she smiled.

“Don’t forget: I’m happy to get a deal for you, whenever you want it,” Malia reminded her as she walked away. Divya waved her off cheerfully.

It always made Malia a little sad. She liked Divya. She wanted her to find a life as good as Malia’s, but she supposed she probably would in her own way. Maybe someday Malia could make her a deal with the FBI. Maybe she would work in a drug cartel until the day she died. Either way, it was her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats to everyone who figured out that Malia is looking for the Desert Wolf, btw ;)


	5. Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little on the shorter side, but both of next week's chapters are a bit longer, so hopefully that makes up for it!
> 
> A little bit of Thiam finally! I feel like it's been a while since we've seen Theo, but there's definitely going to be a lot more of him probably from here on out ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

“They call themselves the Dread Doctors?” Lydia asked skeptically. They were all in the conference room: Liam, Mason, Malia, Lydia, Stiles, and Scott. Papers and files were strewn across the long table, and one of Stiles’s laptops sat open before him.

“That’s what my informant told me,” Malia shrugged, “She said they’re trying to take over all of the drug cartels in the city.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Liam muttered, mostly to himself.

“What doesn’t?” Scott asked, sounding genuinely interested.

Liam looked up to see everyone watching him expectantly. “He seemed really nervous – scared, even,” he explained, “I get that he doesn’t want his business taken away, but…”

“It’s a disproportionate response,” Mason finished for him, “It’s not something that should be scaring him that badly.”

“She also mentioned that they’ve been putting out hits on people who don’t agree with them,” Malia suggested, “She didn’t say anything about a hit on Raeken in particular, but maybe he’s anticipating one.”

“He probably won’t give up his business easily,” Liam agreed.

“So where do we go with this information?” Scott asked from the head of the table.

“It might be enough to get him to make a deal,” Liam said, “But we’d have to find him first.”

“If we get Mason on this case, I can find him in a day or two,” Stiles told Scott, who nodded.

“Mason, you help Stiles with whatever he needs,” he said, before looking at back at Stiles, “This is our top priority case right now, but take your time and do it right. Mason’s not used to your hours, anyways.”

Stiles scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he winked at Mason, who only looked slightly terrified.

“Okay,” Scott addressed the group, “Finding Raeken comes first right now. All of your other cases can be handed off to someone else or put on the back burner. If these Dread Doctors are going around killing people, we need to put them away, and if we can get him to help, I think that’s our best option. Liam, be ready to go as soon as Stiles and Mason have something. You and Malia can start planning strategies in the meantime. Lydia-”

“I know,” she said easily.

Scott nodded.

 

Liam and Malia had only just come up with a reliable plan by the time Stiles and Mason had a location for Raeken. They had pulled an all-nighter, then Liam had gone home to sleep, and by the time that he came back into the office in the late afternoon, Stiles and a totally exhausted Mason were chugging espressos and talking much too quickly for anyone else to actually understand.

“How are you doing?” Liam asked Mason when he and Stiles had finished their whirlwind briefing.

“I have never been so tired and so wired at the same time,” Mason groaned, “I just want to go to sleep, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again.”

Liam made a sympathetic noise. “You can crash at my place if you want to,” he suggested, “It’s closer.”

“Nah, dude, that’s okay,” Mason yawned.

“I’ll leave you my keys,” Liam, said, fishing them out of his pocket, “Just let me in when I get home.”

“Thanks,” Mason accepted the keys along with his defeat. “Good luck with Raeken.”

Malia was jogging down the steps onto the main floor as Mason was putting his coat on. “Okay, Dunbar, let’s go!” she said.

 

The building was a loft in the sliver of overlap between the residential and warehouse districts. Liam’s hand rested on his holster as he followed closely behind Malia. The entrance was down a shady alley and up a rickety fire escape.

“There has to be another way in,” Malia muttered. “He has to have better exits than this.”

“I don’t think we want to catch him unawares if he’s in there,” Liam said.

“Maybe not,” Malia admitted, “But we don’t want him to run before we can talk to him either.”

“I don’t think he’ll run,” Liam said, carefully.

They made their way quietly up the fire escape, and Liam drew his weapon, standing by the door as Malia prepared to pull it open. The door slid open, the lack of resistance nearly causing Malia to fall over.

“Come on in,” Theo smirked at Liam.

Liam looked at Malia, who nodded minutely, and followed Theo into the loft. It was much homier than he had been expecting. The walls were still brick, and the support beams still showed while the columns tried to interrupt the flow of the room, but it was decorated well, with plenty of natural lighting, industrial-looking furniture, and somehow messy in an organized way. It passed through his mind that Theo might actually live here, but even Mason and Stiles weren’t that good.

Theo sat down on his long couch, propping his elbows on his knees, smirk still playing at his mouth. “Have a seat,” he told Liam, as Malia pulled the door closed behind them.

Liam looked around and then holstered his gun and sat in one of the chairs across the coffee table from the couch. Malia gave him a look, and didn’t put her gun away, but sat in the other chair.

“You were expecting us,” Liam stated the obvious.

“I knew you were coming,” Theo agreed.

“But you didn’t run,” he pointed out.

Theo snorted. “The Feds don’t scare me,” he said.

“But the Dread Doctors do,” Malia put in.

Theo looked at her, seeming amused. “Malia Tate – _McCall_ ,” he corrected himself. Malia glared. “You don’t know anything about the Dread Doctors. If you did, you’d be running for your life.”

“Don’t act like you’re smarter than me,” she snarled, “I know they’re contracting with her.”

Liam stared at her. He had no idea what she was talking about, but it didn’t sound like anything they had planned.

Theo glanced at Liam and then back at Malia. “That might be true, but I don’t think it’s what you came here for.” He looked back to Liam again, expression inviting him, if condescendingly, to continue with their investigation.

“We wanted to offer you a deal,” Liam said quickly.

“I thought I told you to stay out of it,” Theo replied, coolly, but with an underlying simmering of anger.

“You’re in danger. We can help,” he insisted.

Theo stood up and paced around to the back of the couch. “I’m always in danger,” he said, “And as for help from the FBI…thanks, but no thanks.”

Liam looked at Malia, but she was watching Theo closely. “Will you just hear us out?” Liam asked, “I’m pretty sure the offer will stand for as long as you need it.”

“As long as you don’t fuck up,” Malia added, “…More than you have already.”

Theo braced his arms against the back of the couch, drawing Liam’s attention to his ridiculously impressive biceps. He tried very hard to ignore them…damn, he should’ve gone to the gym today. “Fine,” Theo grudgingly relented, “What do you want me to do? Name names?”

“How about help us put away the Dread Doctors?” she tried.

Theo hadn’t really been moving, but somehow, he seemed to go even more still. “You think I have that kind of information?” Theo asked, face once again unreadable.

“Are you saying you don’t?” Malia challenged.

Theo glanced at Liam for some reason, and then looked back at Malia. “I’m not saying anything.”

“We can reduce your sentence,” Liam put in, “Keep you protected from your enemies – “

“Not good enough,” Theo said, “I have a life. I have a business. You can’t take that from me.”

“The Dread Doctors can,” Liam pressed.

“They can take yours too!” Theo nearly exploded. “I can handle it myself. Get out!”

Liam and Malia were on their feet in a second, Liam with his hand on his holster, ready to leave, Malia crossing the room to put herself directly, aggressively, in front of Theo.

“You tell me what you know!” she demanded. Liam gawked for a second and then snapped out of it, ready to pull her away.

“I know she’s your mother,” Theo said with a nasty smile, “And I know she wants to kill you.”

Malia started forward, but Liam grabbed her arm and hauled her over to the door. “Think about it!” he managed to shout to Theo, before sliding the door open just enough to push her outside, and then closing it behind him again.

 

Malia, Scott, Lydia, and Stiles were holed up in Scott’s office with the blinds drawn. Liam caught himself looking up towards the offices from time to time as he finished his paperwork. He had just finished, nearly an hour later when Stiles and Lydia slipped out of Scott’s office, looking very serious. They disappeared into Stiles’s office long enough to collect their things and turn the light out, and then were coming down the stairs. Liam jumped to his feet as they neared.

“What’s happening?” he demanded.

“Don’t worry about it,” Stiles sighed.

Liam looked pleadingly at Lydia. “Everything’s fine,” she assured him, “You did really well. Scott’s proud of you, but it’s time to go home.”

“Are you sure –“

“Go home, Liam,” Stiles said, slipping an arm around Lydia’s waist and resting his head against hers, “Better yet, let _me_ go home.” Right. Because Stiles hadn’t slept in probably over 48 hours.

“Yeah,” Liam said quickly, grabbing his coat, “Sorry.”

They smiled at him, and the three of them made their way to the elevator. “You did good, kid,” Stiles told him, as the elevator took them to the ground floor. “We’ll get him.”

“Yeah,” Liam agreed, mind still whirring with the events of the day.

Outside, Stiles and Lydia waved goodbye and headed in the opposite direction from Liam. He had nearly forgotten that he had told Mason to use his bed when he got home, but the door was unlocked, and the TV was on, and when he walked inside, he found Mason eating the rest of his ice cream.

“Asshole,” he sighed, as he flopped down onto the couch, but Mason grabbed a second spoon from the coffee table and handed it to Liam, who dug into the carton.

“How’d it go?” Mason asked.

“He won’t take the deal. Not yet anyways,” Liam sighed. He thought about the end of their visit, contemplating whether or not to tell Mason, but…he always told Mason everything. “Something weird’s going on with Malia,” he admitted.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Mason agreed.

“No, like…she was really grilling Raeken for information about someone…he said it was her mom,” Liam frowned, still confused.

“She’s trying to find her birth mother?” Mason suggested.

“Raeken said that her mother wanted to kill her,” Liam added.

Mason paused for a minute, spoon halfway to his mouth. “Intense.”

 

Mason left a few hours later, after helping Liam clean up the mess of delivery food that they had made, and Liam went upstairs to get ready for bed. His bathroom window, which looked out onto the fire escape, was cracked open, which he didn’t usually do, but Mason had probably been the last one to use the bathroom anyway. He closed it and turned on the shower with an indifferent shrug. After practically scalding himself on the hot water for ten minutes, he pulled the curtain back and wrapped a towel around himself, pausing when he caught sight of the mirror. It was clouded with fog, but a message had been written in the condensation, already starting to run a little. _Be careful_ , it warned, followed by a smiley face that suspiciously resembled the kissy-winky-face emoji.

Liam looked wildly around the bathroom, not sure what he was expecting. The window was open again. He dove over to it, clutching his towel with one hand as he pushed it open all the way and stuck his head out. The alley was deserted.


	6. Corey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!! This chapter contains drug use, ending in overdose. If you don't feel comfortable reading that part, please skip the section beginning and ending with ***. I don't want to give too much away, but if you're unsure or just want a summary of what happens in this part, go down to the end notes for a summary :)
> 
> I have no idea how accurate any of this is, tbh. I really don't know that much about drugs...probably I should have watched NCIS or something before writing this, so bear with me! Also, I'm not sure how this suddenly got so dark, but it is fairly important to the story, so there's that. You also may notice that I upped the rating, mostly because it gets kind of dark in this chapter, but I don't really know how ratings work, so let me know if I should change it!
> 
> Anyways, hope this was worth the wait! The next chapter is pretty Thiam-heavy, I think, and that will be up on Thursday so that we can all calm down a little (or not calm down at all, because, you know, Thiam :D ) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Corey bit his lip, staring at the contact on the screen of his phone. He could do this. Maybe it was ridiculous, but it had to be good right? He had been trying to stop almost since he’d started. Maybe things wouldn’t work out with Mason, but, then again, maybe a cute guy was just the ridiculous excuse he needed.

He typed out a message and pressed send, chewing on his thumb nail. He could do this. He could. The reply, as usual, came almost immediately. Corey had expected some questioning, asking him to explain _why_ , but instead, the message was just a time. He smiled a little to himself. He could do this. Little by little, he would. And then it wouldn’t matter that Mason was FBI.

 

Corey hopped down the short steps at the front of his building. He only had about five minutes, but Lucas usually met him in the park, and that was just around the corner. The sky was threatening rain, but so far it had held off, leaving many of the stoops of the buildings along his street crowded with people, and doors of cramped convenience stores propped open. Sometimes Corey hated his neighborhood, but if he was honest with himself, his street wasn’t so bad. It was nice, it seemed like a community. He hadn’t lived there long, and he knew almost nobody, so sometimes that bright sense of community made him feel even more lonely, but not today. Today the air seemed fresher, the people friendlier. It made him feel like maybe everything could be okay.

A young woman came up alongside him as he walked into the park. “Corey?” she asked.

“Yeah?” he paused, “Do I know you?”

She pulled a small package out of the pocket of her coat and showed it to him. “Why the lower amount?” she asked.

He stared at the package. “I – “ he glanced back up at her. “Where’s Lucas?”

“He’s been replaced,” she said, tossing her hair, “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Replaced? But he – he just texted me like an hour ago,” he frowned.

She sighed heavily. “No, _I_ texted you on his phone,” she pulled it out of her other pocket and tossed it to him. The screen was cracked, and the crack, when he turned it on, was stained red. Corey’s own smile glowed back at him, the dark red line running jaggedly across his face. He would have felt guiltier if he wasn’t so worried about that red crack.

“What did you do to him?” he asked, eyes wide, heart pounding.

“ _I_ didn’t do anything. I’m not in charge.”

“Theo?”

She smiled. “He’s not in charge anymore either.”

Corey frowned. He had never actually met Lucas’s boss, but he had heard of him. It was kind of nice in a weird sort of way, knowing where the heroin was coming from. But if Theo wasn’t in charge –

“Who is?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about that,” she rolled her eyes, “Now give me your phone and tell me why you think you can quit this time.”

Corey gaped, but passed his phone over. “I’m not…okay, so I _am_ trying to quit, but it’ll take a while and I still need to buy –“

She passed his phone back, and he looked down to see a new contact, with an unfamiliar phone number under the name Tracy.

“Call this number next time you want to buy. I’ll set everything up.” She held out her free hand and gestured for the money. Corey dug it out of his pocket and handed it over in exchange for the package. “And stay away from the FBI.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked away through the park.

Corey stuffed the package into one pocket, and Lucas’s phone into the other, and made his way out of the park, still frowning.

 

***

 

The room was spinning. Corey was pretty sure this wasn’t good. His breath was coming in short gasps, and his heart was pounding in his ears. He staggered into the bathroom and braced his arms against the sink. His reflection swam in the mirror before him, ghostly white with bloodshot eyes. His vision blurred, and he choked down a flare of nausea. This was not okay. This was not how it usually happened. He needed…he needed…his knees buckled, but he managed to stay standing.

_Hypotension_ , he thought, _lowered blood pressure, shallow breathing, muscle spasms, convulsions, Maybe a coma. Possible death._ He should know better, really. He was an ER nurse. He’d had overdose patients before. He had thought he could be smart enough…he was supposed to be weaning himself off…his train of thought dropped off, and he propped his forehead against the mirror. _Okay,_ he thought, _okay…I need the hospital. Fuck._ He was going to lose his job. No, he was probably going to die. He really hadn’t taken that much… _No,_ he fought to remember what he was thinking about, _No. Lucas’s phone._ He needed to give it to Mason. They could do something about it…

He pushed himself away from the sink and into the hall, slumping tiredly against the wall as he tried to get his coat on. Two phones in one pocket. His keys in the other. He could stay here…He fought to push himself away from the wall and through his front door. He nearly fell down the stairs, but somehow made it down to the first floor, without really remembering how he had gotten there. The world was still spinning, his vision coming and going, he was pretty sure he was going to vomit any second now, but all he knew was that he had to keep going. Mason. He had to find Mason. He tripped down the steps outside of his building, and sat, sprawled across the bottom step, head resting against the railing as his fingers and left foot twitched. Something wet was on his face. A lot of little wet things, maybe…he couldn’t really see, he wasn’t entirely sure he was actually feeling.

There was no way to tell how long he sat there, but after what could have been seconds or hours (okay, he probably wasn’t going to survive for hours…maybe minutes?), he dragged his eyes open again to see Mason’s burry face come into focus as something flashed behind his head like an aggressive halo. His mouth moved. _Mason,_ Corey tried to say, but his vision was blurring again, and soon everything went dark.

 

***

 

When Corey’s eyes opened again, he was in a colorless hospital room, machines beeping, and an IV itching in his skin. His head was pounding, and his throat was dry, and he could already feel the withdrawal creeping in, but he was…alive. He turned his head experimentally from side to side, until he caught sight of someone, curled up on a chair in the corner of the room.

“Mason?” he croaked. It was barely more than a whisper. He tried again, this time actually managing some sound.

Mason shifted in the chair, and then slowly blinked his eyes open. As soon as he caught sight of Corey, he was tumbling out of his chair and rushing to the side of his bed.

“Corey!” he breathed, eyes scanning him thoroughly, “You scared the hell out of me. How do you feel?”

Not great, but he felt like Mason could probably tell that. “Water?” he asked.

Mason picked up a plastic cup with a purple bendy straw and held it in front of him. Corey tried to drink slowly, and not all at once.

“Lucas’s phone,” he realized, “You have to –“

“We have it,” Mason assured him, putting the cup back on the bedside table, but looking concerned, “It’s at the FBI. They found his…his body. I’m sorry. Was he your –“

“My ex,” Corey said, not meeting Mason’s eyes, “And my dealer.”

Mason was silent for a minute, but then he said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Corey looked at him. “Do they know what happened?” he asked, “I mean, I thought I…I was trying to wean myself off, but…”

“We can’t be sure, but they think the concentration was higher than you usually use. Forensics was able to find a sample in your apartment to match with the new bag, and that’s what it’s looking like.”

Corey fumbled around to find Mason’s hand, hoping that he wouldn’t pull away. He didn’t. Instead, he looked down at Corey with a small smile. “Why do you look so sad?” he dared to ask, “Is it because I – “

“No,” Mason said quickly, “No, no, no. I mean, I’d rather you didn’t, but I don’t control your life…it’s just…” he looked uncomfortable.

“You can tell me,” Corey assured him softly.

“Corey, you were dead. For, like, two minutes,” Mason said, holding his hand tightly, as though to reassure himself that Corey wad still there.

“Oh,” Corey found himself saying, “That’s…not good.”

This surprised a laugh out of Mason. “No,” he agreed, “But you’re here now.”

“I am,” Corey watched him in wonder, “And you are too.”

Mason ducked his head. “I wasn’t sure…” he tried, “You said you didn’t have much family…”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Corey smiled, “Hey, how did you find me anyway? I thought…I thought I saw you, right before I blacked out.”

“Liam and I were on our way to dinner. We usually go to this diner a couple blocks down from you, actually…We almost walked past, but then I recognized you,” Mason lowered his eyes to their hands and whispered, “I was so scared.”

“I was trying to find you,” Corey confessed, squeezing Mason’s hand, “It’s crazy, but…you mean so much to me, even after just one date.” He could hear the heartrate monitor spike as he waited for Mason’s reaction.

Mason smiled back, lifting Corey’s hand to his lips. “Me too,” he murmured. They sat there for just a while longer, before Mason cleared his throat, and said, “Okay, I should call a nurse…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that after the ***, the rest of the chapter takes place in a hospital room, where they talk about what happened earlier in the chapter. I'm not sure if that would make anyone uncomfortable, but I thought I would make a not of it. I'll summarize that portion in the spoilers below as well.
> 
> SPOILERS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Corey tries to start weaning himself off of heroin, but overdoses due to a higher concentration (tbh, I'm not even sure if that's how drugs work...). He tries to leave his apartment to get Lucas's phone to Mason, but blacks out on his front steps with the image of Mason standing over him.
> 
> In the hospital room, Corey wakes up to see Mason asleep in the chair. Mason tells him that the FBI has Lucas's phone and have found his body, as well as confirming that Corey most likely took a higher concentration than usual without knowing it, resulting in him dying for about two minutes before being resuscitated.


	7. Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm not sure that this chapter is so much less stressful than the last one, but Theo and Liam get to bond and be cute without realizing it, so I think that counts for something :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Things were getting weird and Liam was getting impatient. Malia and Stiles were camped out in Stiles’s office, going through Lucas’s cellphone for leads. Scott was locked away in _his_ office with Lydia, mostly brainstorming and calling people, from the looks of it. At least, from what Liam could see through the windowed wall of the office from his desk. He hadn’t been invited to either meeting, so he couldn’t be sure. Mason was at the hospital with Corey, where he had pretty much lived since they had found Corey on a doorstep of an apartment building a few blocks from their favorite diner. And Liam…Liam was doing paperwork.

He sighed heavily and looked up at the offices again. Nobody was telling him anything yet. It was unclear whether or not Corey’s overdose had been an accident, but Liam had a feeling that it wasn’t, and, if so, Lucas’s death had to be connected. He had managed to find out from Corey via Mason, that he was pretty sure that he had been buying his drugs from Theo Raeken’s cartel. It all came back to Theo, which…well, that led to a whole other uncomfortable train of thought. Liam had no doubt now that Theo had broken into his house multiple times, but for some reason, he hadn’t told anyone about it. It wasn’t like he had done anything, that Liam could tell, besides leave a note on his bathroom mirror. And Theo being in his bathroom while he was showering…well, he wouldn’t think about that either.

Scott had assured him that he would be the first to know about any new developments, but this had been immediately followed by Stiles warning him not to get underfoot. The two pulled off the whole good-cop/bad-cop routine like they’d been doing it their entire lives. Which they probably had.

 Liam tried to put off going home for as long as he could, but eventually he ran out of paperwork. He shuffled things around on his desk for a bit, then cleaned it top to bottom before reluctantly admitting that there was nothing left for him to do. He pulled on his jacket and took one last look at the senior offices. The doors were still closed, Stiles’s blinds drawn, which was nothing new, and Scott was in his chair, spinning back and forth slightly, nodding, as Lydia paced in her four-inch Louboutins, talking animatedly, most likely on speakerphone. With a deep sigh, Liam turned towards the elevators.

There wasn’t much to do at home either. He watched the news for half an hour, before turning the television off, restless. He went for a run, but about ten minutes in, it started to pour, so he went home and took a shower, and then looked over Theo’s case files for an hour or so before giving up and going into the kitchen to figure out something to make for dinner.

“Hey.”

Liam jumped, heart pounding with adrenaline. Theo Raeken was leaning against his kitchen counter, looking very much the worse for wear. His normally perfect hair was mussed and dripping from the rain. His jacket and jeans were soaked and clinging to him, and there was a splotch of red on his white shirt, almost entirely hidden by his hand, which was pressed heavily against his lower abdomen. Rain had streaked through the dirt on his face, leaving lines of skin a sickly shade of pale. Liam had only seen him in person a number of times, but he had been put together with the perfect amount of carelessness every single one of them.

“What are you doing here?” Liam demanded, without moving from the doorway. His gun was in the other room, but from the look of Theo, he wasn’t sure he would need it. “How did you get in?”

“How do you think?” Theo looked pointedly at the open window, where the rain was blowing in, “I can’t go to any of my safehouses right now.” Liam crossed the kitchen and pulled the window closed, realizing, after the fact, that it had brought him closer to Theo. Much closer. Theo moved his hand slightly, wincing, to look at the wound underneath. It looked bad.

“Someone shot you,” Liam inferred.

“No shit,” Theo said, through gritted teeth. “Are you going to help me?”

Liam scowled. “Why would I help you?”

“Would you rather let me bleed out on your kitchen floor?” Theo grimaced, swaying a little against the counter. His hand was still glistening dark red with blood when he pressed it back over the wound.

Liam’s scowl intensified with his frustration, but he turned and stormed out of the kitchen towards the bathroom. He only noticed Theo had followed him when he turned around, having pulled the first aid kit out from under the sink. Theo was leaning against the doorframe, hand still pressed to his side.

“Take your shirt off and start talking,” Liam commanded, running an old washcloth under the faucet.

Theo smirked, but extracted himself from his jacket, and started to work his shirt up over his head. Liam tried to concentrate on the washcloth. He had known, theoretically, that under his casual clothes, Theo was jacked. There were a number of gyms in his file, which he visited at least one of each day. Seeing those muscles in person, though…that was a whole different story.

“The Dread Doctors,” Theo started, as Liam gestured for him to sit on the closed toilet seat, “You know about them, right?” Liam nodded as he knelt in front of Theo to wipe at the blood, entirely unsure of why exactly he was doing it. “They’ve been trying to take over my business…take over everyone’s business, actually. I tried to work with them at first, but they’re gunning for absolute power and cutting down everyone who stands in their way,” he hissed as Liam got closer to the wound, “Including me.”

“Am I supposed to feel bad for you?” Liam frowned, concentrating on clearing the blood away from Theo’s tone abdomen.

A humorless snort came from above him. “I guess not.”

He looked up at Theo. “Why did you come here? To make a deal?”

Theo looked down to inspect the mostly-cleaned wound.

“Theo.” Theo’s eyes snapped back up to Liam, a challenging but guarded look in his eyes.

“I came here because I can’t trust any of my people,” he said.

“What a surprise. And you suddenly trust the FBI instead?” Liam said, rolling his eyes.

“ _Not_ the FBI,” Theo said, eyes moving down to inspect the wound again, “I’m gonna need tweezers, a sewing needle and thread, and some rubbing alcohol…”

Liam’s confusion by the first half of his statement was quickly overshadowed by his horror at the second half. “What? No! You are _not_ giving yourself stitches in my bathroom!”

“Oh, are you going to do it for me?” Theo asked, a small smile tipping the corner of his mouth upwards, even as his hands shook and his skin continued to lose color.

Liam glared at him in frustration. “You can’t just go to the hospital?”

“They would find me there. She would come to finish me off,” Theo explained, voice a little breathless and strained.

Liam fought with himself for a few seconds before making the decision. “Get in the bathtub,” he scowled, “I’ll be right back.” He darted into his bedroom and found a small sewing kit in the bottom of one of his drawers. He thought for a second and ran downstairs to grab a mostly untouched bottle of Jack. _This is probably a terrible idea_ , he decided, running back upstairs and sliding into his bathroom, where Theo was lowering himself into the bathtub.

He eyeballed the bottle as Liam placed it next to the tub and went to the medicine cabinet for tweezers and rubbing alcohol. “I don’t really drink,” he grunted, shifting against the wall as Liam knelt next to him.

“Are you serious?” Liam stared at him, sanitized tweezers in hand.

“Yeah, I…it’s not good for you.”

“Neither are drugs,” he frowned.

“Yeah, and I don’t do those either,” Theo argued.

“No,” Liam shot back, “You just give them to other people.” Theo looked like he was going to argue, so Liam pressed the bottle of Jack into his hand. “Trust me, you’re going to want this.”

Theo eyed him dubiously, but uncapped it and took a swig, making a face. “Never liked the –“ he cut himself off with a strangled shout of pain as Liam dug the tweezers into his wound, thanking god he wasn’t squeamish.

“Sorry,” Liam said reflexively, “It’s not like I can get a good angle from here…are you absolutely positive you can’t go to the hospital?”

Theo spread his legs and grabbed Liam’s arm, pulling it weakly towards him. “Get in, then,” he gritted out, before taking another swig of rum.

It seemed like a bad idea. Theo was wanted on any number of charges (as long as they could find solid evidence or get him to confess), he had landed Mason’s maybe-sort-of-boyfriend in the hospital with a heroin overdose, and someone had had enough of a problem with him to shoot him. Liam wasn’t stupid, he knew Theo was dangerous. All of this was a really terrible idea, if he thought about it. But everyone else seemed to have their own leads, and something was telling him that this was an opportunity that nobody else would have. And Theo…just didn’t look that dangerous, bleeding out in Liam’s bathtub. He steeled himself, and then crawled into the tub, kneeling between Theo’s legs, this time with much easier access to the bullet hole.

“Tell me what happened,” Liam instructed, as he plunged the tweezers back in.

“Fuck!” Theo shouted, panting as he got acclimated to the pain. “It – was – the Desert Wolf.” He took yet another long pull from the bottle.

“What’s the Desert Wolf?” Liam prompted, glancing up at him for just a second.

“She’s – Malia’s – _fucking shit!_ – her mother. Hit woman.”

Liam wanted to react more, but he had the bullet in his grasp, and he didn’t dare jerk it around. He wasn’t a doctor. He didn’t know exactly where Theo’s arteries would be, and if he severed one by accident…a dead drug lord in his bathtub was not going to look good. “She, uh…she’s working for the Dread Doctors?” he asked carefully, as Theo groaned in pain.

“ _Yes_ ,” He gritted out, knees tilting inwards to squeeze Liam’s sides on instinct. Liam tried not to let the movement jostle his hand, but he felt his face flush and his heartrate spike, even as he continued to work the bulled carefully out of Theo’s abdomen.

The bullet popped out of Theo’s skin, and his head dropped back against the shower wall, legs relaxing their grip on Liam’s sides. Liam sat back onto his heels, dropping the bullet into a plastic bag and wiping his face with his sleeve. “Fuck,” they sighed out at the same time.

“I still have to stitch you up,” he told Theo, picking up the rubbing alcohol again to clean the wound.

“Yeah, I know,” Theo grunted, shifting a little under Liam.

“Okay…” Liam sanitized a needle from his sewing kit. “So, the Dread Doctors hired Malia’s mom to kill you. Did she kill Lucas too?”

“Lucas is dead?” Liam glanced at Theo, but he didn’t seem particularly surprised or concerned. Mostly he looked only vaguely conscious.

“You didn’t know? Did you know about Corey?”

Theo shut his eyes and for a second, Liam was terrified that he had passed out. “Theo!” he grabbed the leg next to him and shook it. Theo’s eyes blinked open again. “Corey?”

“Hm…Bryant? Heroin. Cutting back. Sucks, but some people get smart, I guess,” he murmured, eyelids heavy.

“Don’t pass out,” Liam warned him, trying to thread the needle with shaking hands. “Hey! Stay with me!”

“Yeah…” Theo muttered, “You…I think…” His head was lolling against the wall, rocking from side to side, his breathing maybe a little too shallow.

The thread found its way through the eye and he pulled, quickly tying it off. “What?” he asked, desperately trying to keep Theo talking. “You think…”

“Not the FBI…you…” Theo gasped as Liam pricked the needle into his skin, trying to close the wound up as quickly as possible without doing too much damage.

“What about me?” Liam pressed, working steadily. There was no answer. He glanced up as he tied off the end. Theo’s eyes were closed. “Theo?” He put his ear on Theo’s chest, listening for a heartbeat, feeling for the rise and fall of breath. It was there. All of it. Shallow breath, weak heartbeat, but there nonetheless. He sat back, swearing softly to himself. His hands were still kind of shaking. “If you hadn’t almost gotten Corey killed, he probably could have done this way better than I just did,” he told an unconscious Theo.

 

Theo was coming back to consciousness by the time that Liam had managed to clean up most of the bathroom. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Theo glanced warily around, and then started at the sight of Liam.

“Relax,” Liam snorted, closing the medicine cabinet. “I just finished sewing you up, I’m not going to put another bullet in you.”

Theo sank back against the wall again. “What, you’re not going to turn me in either?”

“We can’t get enough evidence on you, and you know that,” Liam reminded him.

“Yeah,” Theo agreed vaguely, looking down at the uneven stitches across his abdomen. “Nice job.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

Theo shrugged, and struggled to his feet, swaying a little. Liam moved to his side instinctively to steady him. “Uh…” he backed away as soon as he was sure Theo could hold himself up. “I was about to make dinner. Hungry?”

Theo looked at him calculatingly. “Yeah,” he said. Liam nodded, and turned to go. “Can I, uh…can I take a shower?”

“Um…yeah,” Liam said, quickly, “Just, you know, try not to drown…”

Theo rolled his eyes but stepped out of the bathtub to undo the button on his jeans. “You can leave the door open, just in case.”

Liam wanted to argue. It was maybe a little weird to know that Theo was naked in his shower without even a door between them. Then again, he also didn’t want to lose an informant who slipped and fell in his shower without him knowing about it, all because he thought Theo heeded privacy. “Uh. Okay. I’ll be right downstairs…” He slipped out of the bathroom, listening to the shower turn on as he went through his drawers, finding clean clothes for Theo Reaken. This was definitely weird. Very, very weird. When he looked into the bathroom again, the shower curtain was pulled shut, so Liam darted in to leave the clothes on top of the toilet.

He cooked dinner with one ear open for any bangs or crashes from upstairs. None came until he heard Theo stumbling down the stairs, minutes after the water had shut off. He entered the kitchen, clean, with wet hair, dressed in Liam’s sweatpants and t-shirt.

“Dude,” he looked at Liam dazedly, “I think I’m drunk.” He staggered a little, moving further into the kitchen.

“I’ll say,” Liam snorted, pulling the pan of reheated pizza out of the oven. Classy as ever.

Theo slumped against the fridge as he watched Liam shuffle some slices of pizza onto plates. “Couch,” he instructed, herding Theo towards the living room and onto the couch. “Are you here to negotiate a deal?” he asked, dropping into Mason’s usual armchair.

“Maybe,” Theo sighed, biting into the pizza. Liam waited for more, but Theo didn’t seem to care much about elaborating.

“Okay,” he sighed, turning on the TV, and flicking through to some bad 80s movie starring Michael J Fox. He could work with _maybe_.

They watched in silent for a bit. It was still weird, watching TV and eating pizza on a Friday night with Theo Raeken. But maybe the weirdest part was how comfortable it was. Liam decided to take Stiles’s usual advice in this case and just ignore the feeling until it eventually went away. He had finished his pizza by the time the movie was ending, and when he looked over, Theo was asleep.

 

How Theo could make pancakes when he was hungover was beyond Liam’s comprehension. He would have been lying on the floor of the bathroom, probably crying, definitely dry-heaving, but Theo seemed just fine, besides wincing every time he stretched his right side.

“How are you functional right now?” Liam blinked, “You got shot and then drank like half a bottle of rum.”

“I took some Advil,” Theo explained, “Thanks for the pillow.” Liam decided magnanimously to take that as a thank you for _everything_ he had done last night.

“Are you making pancakes?” he asked stupidly, staring as more batter was poured onto the pan

“Pancakes are somehow the healthiest thing you have in your kitchen,” Theo frowned, as if the very thought disturbed him, “And I’m not going to start eating Pop-Tarts for breakfast just because I’m hiding out here.”

Liam made a face at him behind his back and turned on the coffee machine. “You want to talk about why you’re here now that you’re not drunk or getting a bullet extracted from your stomach?” he asked

Theo flipped a pancake. “I trust you not to kill me. I know you won’t turn me in until I agree to make a deal.”

Liam watched him closely, but his expression betrayed nothing. “Why did you want to keep me out of it, then? You don’t seem to have a problem with it now.”

Theo glanced at him. “Same reason,” he shrugged, “I can’t use you if you’re dead.”

“Stiles is smart,” Liam muttered.

“Yeah,” Theo snorted. He turned the stove off and carried the stack of pancakes to the table.

“Coffee?” Liam offered.

“Sure.”

The doorbell rang. Liam and Theo looked at each other, and then Liam started towards the door, picking up his gun and tucking it into the back of his waistband as he went. When he looked over his shoulder, Theo was nowhere to be seen. He peered through the window next to his front door, and then unlocked it and pulled it open.

“Stiles? What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Stiles complained, pushing his way inside, “Hey, did you make pancakes? I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Uh…” Liam answered very eloquently.

Stiles whipped around as Liam closed the door, eyes narrowing. “Who’s here?”

“I…Mason?” Liam tried, which, as soon as he said it, he realized was a terrible mistake. Stiles nearly always knew where Mason was, and Mason was nearly always at the hospital, if he wasn’t at the office.

Stiles sent him a withering glare, that said _don’t insult my intelligence_ , and went into Liam’s kitchen, looking for clues. He took a pancake, still warm, and wandered around the room, poking at things, opening cabinets, examining the half-empty bottle of Jack for a minute before replacing it. Finally, he opened the trash can and paused. He looked at Liam.

Liam tried to look as innocent as possible.

“Who got shot?” he asked, letting the lid of the trash can fall closed. Liam didn’t need to answer, nor did he get the time to. “Are you an idiot? Seriously? Raeken!”

“What?” Theo asked, boredly, already standing in the doorway to the living room, arms folded across his chest. Liam wasn’t entirely sure how he had gotten there so fast. Then again, he had no idea where Theo had been hiding.


	8. Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't update on Tuesday, I've been writing a fic for the Olympics that I wanted to get done and had the brilliant (read: absolutely terrible) idea of updating every day until it's finished. Needless to say, I may have fallen a little behind on this fic, which is sad, but I'm sure I'll get back into the swing of things pretty quickly. I'm also only going to be updating on Thursday next week because I'm going away this weekend and today's chapter is the last full chapter I have written right now...oops. Where did the days go where I was four chapters ahead of the one I was updating? 
> 
> Anyways. Not that you needed an entire novel to explain that to you, but you got one anyways. I feel like this fic has to be getting somewhere close-ish to the end. Don't panic, though! There will still be a part 2 from Theo's pov, which will be fun, because I'm pretty sure he's already well on his way to being head over heels for Liam, whether he knows it or not.
> 
> Also, don't be too mad at Stiles for not liking/trusting Theo. I know Thiam is fantastic and everything, but that doesn't make Theo one of the good guys yet. Probably he'll never do anything too bad to Liam, but Stiles has already suffered extensively at his hands, so personally I don't think they'll ever get along.
> 
> Okay, I really am going to stop trying to explain everything and let you read the chapter now :D 
> 
> Enjoy!

He was going to kill Liam this time. No, he actually was. It was beyond all comprehension _how_ this kid could actually think that hiding Theo Raeken in his house was a good idea. It was practically aiding and abetting. And, seriously, _Theo Raeken_! He had killed Mason’s Corey. Literally killed him! Okay, so maybe it had only been for two minutes, and yes, Corey was alive now, but Stiles and Mason had spent a lot of time together the past week. Mason now knew everything, from what Stiles and Lydia ate for breakfast on Sundays, to the entire history of the male circumcision, and Stiles, Stiles knew _all_ about Corey. How Liam could fish a bullet out of this guy’s stomach when he had broken his best friend’s heart, Stiles couldn’t understand. But personally, he didn’t trust the guy.

He turned to Liam instead. “Why is he here?” he asked. Liam’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, silent, as Stiles waited ever-so-patiently for an explanation. “Seriously! He killed Corey!”

Raeken’s eyebrows rose ever so slightly. “Corey’s dead?” he asked.

“He’s fine,” Stiles flapped his hand distractedly, still focused on Liam, “It was only for, like, two minutes. Liam?”

“He was going to make a deal!” Liam pleaded, finally, “We can’t make a deal with him if he dies!”

“And you didn’t want to, oh, I don’t know – take him to a hospital where we could handcuff him to the bed and place a guard at his door?” he questioned. Liam may be Scott’s protégé, but half the time, he made Stiles want to bash his head against the wall.

“Uh…I didn’t –“ Liam glanced at Raeken, who looked slightly amused, “I didn’t think about that.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Stiles sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to cuff Raeken, take him into the office, get a full statement, and then have him give us all the information we need from inside a nice, safe, prison cell.”

Raeken pushed himself off of the wall that he was leaning against, dropping his arms to his sides. “I’m not going to jail.”

“Well, that’s kind of part of the deal,” Stiles told him, reasonably.

“I’m not going until I’m sure that the Dread Doctors are taken care of,” he insisted.

Stiles rolled his eyes, but his phone ringing in his pocket put a pause on his reply. “Yo, Scotty. You won’t believe who I found at Liam’s house,” he answered, walking into the hall as Liam and Raeken started whisper-fighting very unsubtly (like, Stiles could hear every single word. No finesse.).

“Who?” Scott asked, sounding confused.

“Theo Raeken,” Stiles snorted, “Yeah. Your little Scott 2.0 is harboring a fugitive.”

“Technically he’s not a fugitive until we can actually prove he’s behind something,” Scott pointed out.

“Okay, yes, but – look, I’m bringing him in. Liam said he wants to make a deal,” Stiles said.

“I have conditions,” Raeken assured him from the kitchen, where Liam was helping himself to pancakes, which, apparently, the drug lord himself had made.

“Apparently he has conditions,” Stiles relayed to Scott, “I think it’s safe to assume that at least one of them is psychological.”

“Stiles,” Scott sighed.

“Yeah. I’ll be in in a bit, just let me wrangle your child and his new friend.”

“No – well, yeah, okay, do that first, but I also wanted you to know that the marshal’s here. She and Malia are probably going to be tied up on this for a while – “

Stiles glanced over his shoulder at the other two and moved into the living room. “Right _now_? Scott, is this really the best time?”

“I’m not the boss of her Stiles,” he insisted.

Stiles tried to contain his flails of outrage. “Wha- yes you are! You are literally her boss! Just say that we have a top-priority case that she’s supposed to be working on! She’s mostly reasonable…”

“But maybe it’s a good thing,” Scott suggested to another of Stiles’s long-suffering groans, “No, I mean it. If we can’t get to the Dread Doctors through Raeken, maybe we can at least stop the trigger from being pulled.”

Stiles thought for a minute. Damn it. He hated when Scott whipped out his logic on him. “You might have a point,” he grudgingly admitted, “Just don’t let her leave until I get there, okay?”

“I won’t,” Scott promised, and hung up.

When Stiles went back into the kitchen, breakfast was in full swing: as in, Liam and Raeken were sitting on opposite sides of the table, a very much diminished stack of pancakes between them, watching each other suspiciously as they ate.

“Alright, let’s go,” he clapped, “This is getting weird.”

“Stiles –“ Liam tried.

Stiles looked over at Raeken. “If I don’t cuff you, will you come quietly?” he asked.

Raeken shrugged, which seemed to be about as good of an answer as he was going to get. He watched him closely as Liam left the room to get ready for work.

“I know you don’t like me, Stiles,” Raeken said calmly, as he cleared the plates from the table.

“Uh, yeah. You framed me. For murder,” Stiles reminded him with a glare. He could mostly work the Raeken case without being constantly in a rage these days, but he had been so pissed for at least a year, even after everyone had realized he was innocent. Raeken messed with everyone though, so Stiles contented himself with hovering around Seriously Annoyed every time he had to focus on his case.

“You got closer to figuring me out than anyone else had before. Or since. I’m impressed, actually,” Raeken told him.

“You’re a psychopath,” Stiles assured him, bristling as Raeken smirked. God, being around him was bringing back some of the worst memories of Stiles’s life. “LIAM!” He shouted, “Let’s go!”

“You know, it kind of feels like we’re on the same side now,” Raeken said easily.

“Oh, really? Maybe I should kick you in the balls to remind you that we’re not,” he looked around as Liam came thundering down the stairs.

 

Stiles left Liam and Raeken in the conference room with Scott and Lydia and went to Malia’s office, knocking briefly on the door before entering without bothering to wait for an answer. Malia looked up from the papers spread across her desk as he entered, closing the door behind him, and nodded to the familiar woman sitting in the chair across from her. “Braeden’s here,” she explained.

“Hey,” Stiles said, taking the other chair, “Did you bring Derek?”

“He’s still working on the Kate thing,” she told him.

“Let him know we’re here if he needs help,” Stiles nodded,

Braeden smiled. “Scott said the same thing.”

Stiles grinned back at her. He’d always liked Braeden. She was as scary as she was badass as she was beautiful. In other words, she was Derek’s perfect match.

“I brought Raeken in,” he told them, “Not that we can get him on anything. Scott and Lydia are working on getting a deal…apparently he and Liam had some kind of sleepover.”

Malia narrowed her eyes. “What kind of sleepover?” she asked, making Braeden snort.

“The kind where Liam removes a bullet from Raeken’s body, apparently,” he said.

“I’m sorry, is that some kind of euphemism?” Braeden asked.

“I…hope not,” Stiles grimaced as he tried to will the picture out of his mind. “Seriously? What is wrong with you?”

She and Malia were both laughing now, so he rolled his eyes and looked over the papers on the desk. “You know who probably shot him, right?”

“Desert Wolf?” Braeden suggested.

“Got it in one,” he nodded, picking up one of Malia’s pens to keep his hands occupied as he thought, rolling it between his fingers and pulling at the clip on its side.

“He could help us,” Malia suggested, “We could get some information out of him.”

“Hey, no! Bad idea!” Stiles sat up suddenly, “Don’t trust this guy, okay?”

Malia frowned, watching him closely. “That’s exactly what Divya said. Why?”

“He framed me!” Stiles reminded her, “For murder! He manipulates people – it’s what he does!”

“So we don’t let him manipulate us,” Malia shrugged easily.

Stiles ran his hand over his face. “Bad idea…just, at least only use him as a last resort, right?”

Malia watched him in silence for just a beat too long. “Yeah. Obviously.”

Somehow, Stiles was not reassured.

 

When he went back to his own office, Lydia was already inside, waiting for him in his own chair.

“Hey,” he leaned down to kiss her, and then perched himself on the edge of his desk. “How’s it going with Raeken?”

“I don’t trust him,” she admitted, biting her lip.

“But?” Stiles pressed cautiously.

“But I think he’s going to make a deal,” she looked up at him, beautiful hazel eyes wide with concern.

“Alright,” Stiles sighed, “Okay, we’re smarter than this…He’s going to prison, right? That’s part of the deal?”

She shook her head. “That’s one of his conditions. He’ll provide the evidence we need and do everything he can to help catch the Dread Doctors, but we give him protection and don’t arrest him until he can be sure the Dread Doctors are gone…that’s what it’s looking like, anyways.”

“And Scott’s agreeing to this?” he asked, doubtfully.

“He will,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it delicately within her own, “But you’re right. We’re smarter than that. It won’t be like last time.”

It seemed hard to believe that, but…he had to, didn’t he? It was the only way he could go on. And if Lydia could believe it, well maybe Stiles could believe it too. She smiled, and he felt himself reflexively grin back at her. It was easy to feel like he didn’t deserve her, but that hardly mattered when she reminded him every day that, regardless of how strong they were apart, they would always be better together.

She stood from his chair and kissed the top of his head. “We should call your dad tonight,” she suggested easily, as she crossed to her desk. He smiled fondly after her.


	9. Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may or may not be updating next week. I'll be really busy, but I'm going to try really hard to have a chapter for Thursday. Hopefully I'll be able to pick back up the Tuesday updates soon, but I don't know when. 
> 
> Also, please don't be too mad at me about your chapter. I know y'all love your Theo, but at this point he's still the bad guy. Obviously we all know from Black Diamond that he will be a sweetheart with eyes only for Liam eventually, but that's not how he is at this point in the show, and that's not how he is at this point in the fic. He will be redeemed by the end of this fic, but there has to be some angst and conflict. Hence the attitudes at the end of this chapter.
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your comments and kudos and bookmarks and everything. You're all so lovely :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Liam felt like he was being blamed for something, when, really, he had no idea what was even going on. Okay, so maybe he should’ve just forced Theo to go to the hospital, but…they had a deal, right? That had to count for something. Regardless, Scott was slowly developing a nervous tick like he needed to go run a 5k, and Theo was starting to look like his stitches were bothering him, no matter how hard he was trying to hide it.

“Okay,” Scott relented around lunchtime, “Liam, I’m sorry. I know it’s your day off, but do you think you can keep an eye on Theo for today? And don’t hesitate to call for backup if you need it. I’m serious.”

“Uh…yeah, okay,” he glanced at Theo, “I was just going to check in with Mason. He’s bringing Corey home from the hospital today.” He could feel Theo watching him now and kept his eyes steadily on Scott. He pretty much always had no idea what was going through Theo’s head, which…might actually be a good thing, honestly.

“Good idea,” Scott nodded, “Between him and Corey, we might actually be able to figure out what happened.”

“ _I_ didn’t make him overdose,” Theo insisted.

Scott looked at him, his expression calm as ever. “I never said you did,” he reminded him, getting to his feet, which Liam took as his cue to do the same. “You’re sure you don’t want a police detail?”

“No,” Theo frowned, “I just need to know that I have backup I can trust.”

Scott frowned as well but said nothing as Theo passed out of the room, waiting until Liam was on his way through the door before catching his arm and warning, “Watch him.” He didn’t trust him, and he didn’t want Liam to either. He didn’t need to say it. Liam nodded, and followed Theo back down to the main floor.

 

Mason almost closed his front door in their faces.

“I didn’t do it,” Theo sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, you mean you _didn’t_ give Corey a higher concentration of heroin so that he would overdose just because he wanted to quit?” Mason replied sarcastically.

“I’m not exactly running my business anymore, so no,” Theo retorted, “I didn’t. But I think I can tell you who did.”

Mason looked at Liam, who nodded in confirmation, but still hesitated to open the door any further. Liam wasn’t sure he could blame him, but at the same time, he thought that Mason was maybe judging Theo too harshly. “It’s fine, dude,” he assured him, “Would I be here if it wasn’t?”

After another moment, Mason stepped back and let them in.

 “Hey, Liam,” Corey said from the couch, when they followed Mason into the living room.

“How are you doing, man?” Liam replied, feeling Theo still hovering at his shoulder.

“Better now,” he smiled up at Mason, before glancing back to Theo. “Hi?”

“Hey, Corey,” Theo said, a humorless smile twisting his mouth. Liam watched as the tension in the room ratcheted up.

Corey frowned, sitting up straighter. “Do I know you?” he asked cautiously.

“That’s Raeken,” Mason explained, crossing his arms as he glared, “Theo Raeken.”

It was a very uncomfortable silence. Theo said nothing and his expression remained unchanged, but there was a stiffness to his posture now. Mason was still unapologetically suspicious and hostile, and Liam was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Corey looked surprised and then thoughtful, and finally he said, “It’s okay. You didn’t do it.”

Mason sank down on the couch next to him and all of their eyes turned to Theo. He stood next to Liam still, expression carefully blank. After an even longer silence, Liam dropped into one of the armchairs, resting his elbows on his knees. Finally, Theo nodded.

“Corey, we’re going to find out what happened to you, but you’re going to need to tell us everything you can remember, so Theo can fill in the rest,” he said.

Corey nodded, watching Theo wince as he sank into the other chair. “Is he okay?”

“He got shot,” Liam said, “And wouldn’t go to the hospital.”

“Did you get the bullet out?” he asked, looking slightly concerned, “I’m a nurse, I can take a look – “

“Corey –“ Mason protested, taking his hand.

“No,” Liam dropped his gaze at the openness of Corey’s expression, “If he needs help, I’m going to help him. I’m a nurse. I can’t just let people die.”

Mason let him go, and he moved across the room to crouch by Theo’s side as he lifted the hem of his shirt. He pulled the dressing back and hummed over the stitches.

He looked up at Liam. “Did you do this?” Liam nodded. “It’s not bad. Make sure you’re keeping it clean. Do you need some Advil? Mason do you have Advil?”

Mason stood up to get it, shooting Liam a look that said _watch him_. Liam wasn’t sure why he was responsible for Theo all of a sudden. It wasn’t like Theo would ever listen to him, or that he even wanted to be spending so much time with him, anyways. This was probably his punishment.

Corey covered the stitches again and moved back to the couch.

“It was the Dread Doctors,” Theo told him, expression still unreadable, “They took over my operation.”

“They killed Lucas,” Corey told him.

“I heard,” Theo replied, which was probably about as close to sympathy as he was going to get.

“I mean, he’s the one who got me into this whole mess in the first place, but he wouldn’t – he didn’t –“ Mason came back into the room, tossing the bottle of Advil to Theo, probably harder than necessary, with a frown. Corey took a deep breath. “The girl who replaced him – Tracy – she asked me about why I was trying to quit and then gave me the drugs and put her number in her phone for next time I buy.”

Liam glanced at Theo, who was frowning heavily. “What?” he asked him, “Do you know her?”

“Tracy? Yeah. She used to work for me, but she’s always done whatever she’s had to do to get ahead. That’s why I liked her. Not loyal, though. She’ll be working for the Dread Doctors now,” he explained, getting to his feet to pace, “But I don’t know why she would agree to selling. It’s a step down for her.”

Theo spoke of her with something like fondness and respect. He probably hadn’t trusted her, but he had known her well. Maybe been friends with her. _Or more_ , Liam thought with a frown. He wasn’t sure why that thought put him off so much.

 “So the Dread Doctors were trying to kill him?” Mason asked, “Why?”

“Because they thought he was giving information to the FBI,” Theo said simply. He looked at Liam. “They don’t give you guys enough credit. Even if you didn’t have half a dozen informants in our game, you would have figured it out eventually.”

“You knew about our informants and didn’t do anything to them?” Mason asked, watching him suspiciously.

Theo’s attention flickered from Liam back to Mason. “Why would I? They were doing their jobs and they never told you anything I didn’t want them to.” He looked perfectly calm, perfectly confident, which bothered Liam. Theo was always a step ahead and smug about it. It drove him crazy.

“The Dread Doctors tried to kill me and I had only met Mason and Liam once,” Corey pointed out.

“Yeah, well, they have a bigger game than selling drugs,” Theo frowned slightly, pausing in his steps.

“What do you mean?” Liam looked at him. Theo hadn’t mentioned this to him and Scott earlier.

He shook his head. “I don’t know much about it, but I know that they’re working on something. A new drug. I was trying to find out before I got shot, which is why I’m not letting anyone take me to prison until I’ve figured it out.”

“Why didn’t you tell Scott that?” Liam demanded.

“Scott doesn’t have to know everything I know,” Theo countered, “He may be your boss, but he’s not mine.”

“How are we supposed to help you if you don’t tell us things like this?” Liam argued, barely aware that he had risen to his feet as well.

“I told _you_ , didn’t I?” Theo shot back.

“You don’t get, it! You can’t just make me do everything!” Liam ground out, “You’re not working with _me_ , you’re working with the FBI.”

Theo’s smile was something that Liam had never seen on him before. It wasn’t as soft as it was when he was barely lucid, or as playful and confident as it was when he smirked at him. It was nasty, ugly, full of a special kind of cunning. _Dangerous_ , Liam felt stupid for having to remind himself, _he’s dangerous_.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not working with the FBI,” he said casually, but not without a certain amount of bitterness, “I’m working with you. I’ll go along with your noble _play by the Bureau’s rules_ thing until it conflicts with my interests. And then we’ll do it my way.”

Liam could feel his blood starting to boil as Theo spoke. He had always had a bit of an issue with controlling his anger. And he had never liked to be pushed around. It wasn’t the best combination, really. It almost never ended well.

“Liam,” Mason’s voice sounded faint as the blood roared in his ears. Liam _knew_ that he was right. Scott was the best person he knew, and if he thought that there was a wrong way to go about it, then there was. Stiles and Lydia were the smartest people he knew. If they thought that doing something was dumb, then it probably was. Malia was brave. If she didn’t dare, then Liam didn’t either. And none of them trusted Theo, so why had he? _Had_ he trusted him? It wasn’t clear now. All that was clear was that he was trying to back Liam into a corner, and Liam wasn’t about to go without a fight.

“Holy shit!” Corey yelled as he and Mason reeled backwards. Liam’s hand stung, and Theo was doubled over, hands covering his face. A few fingers came away bloody. Liam shook his hand out, staring at Theo in vague horror. He had just punched him. In the face.

A strange gasping sound came from Theo, and his body began to shake. When he straightened up, Liam saw that he was laughing. His sense of unease deepened. “I knew you were tougher than you looked,” he said, with that same terrible smile.

 

Liam was sitting in Scott’s office. Raeken was in the conference room with Malia and Lydia. Scott was sitting at his desk across from Liam, looking very tired as he massaged the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed closed.

“Look,” Stiles said, from the far side of the room, where he was pacing, “I don’t want to have to say ‘I told you so’. Again. But – “

“But you’re always right and I should listen to whatever you have to say, and never disagree ever for the sake of my manlihood?” Scott sighed.

“Yeah,” Stiles smiled in mild surprise.

“Liam, I can’t believe I have to say this, but you _can’t_ punch our assets in the face,” Scott told him, “Have you still been going to the anger management classes?”

“I was fine,” Liam protested, “I _am_ fine. They said I only need to come back if I have a relapse or whatever.”

Scott looked at him, brown eyes endlessly understanding. “I hate to ask, but how long has it been since Hayden left?” he asked softly.

Liam dropped his eyes to his hands. “It’s been over a month,” he almost whispered, trying to pretend that he didn’t know the exact day and time that he had come home to half of his house in boxes.

“Okay. You’re under a lot of stress right now. Maybe it would be helpful if you went back to those classes. Just until everything blows over,” Scott said, eyebrows raising in concern.

“I don’t need anger management classes!” Liam exploded, “We don’t have time! There are more important things –“

“Hey!” Stiles pushed off of the wall that he had been leaning against, “We are trying to help you, you little runt!”

“Stiles,” Scott cut in, turning his attention back to Liam as Stiles backed off and Liam sank back further into his seat. “Liam, I’m going to have to officially recommend that you at least speak with the department psychologist. But taking anger management classes isn’t that bad, is it?”

Liam fumed silently, knowing that it was better to let Scott talk than to get himself into more trouble.

“Look, I have severe asthma. I have to take my inhaler everywhere with me and go to the doctor more often than I would like to. Stiles has ADHD. He takes Adderall and sees a psychiatrist once a month.”

“I know,” Liam huffed.

“You know you don’t have to be afraid of asking for help.”

“I know,” he repeated, defeated.

Scott nodded firmly. “So now we have to figure out what to do about Raeken.”

“I told you he was dangerous,” Stiles reminded him.

“Yeah, I got that,” Scott sighed, “And now we know for a fact that he’s not telling us everything.”

“Scott, you didn’t see his face,” Liam said, aware that Stiles was now watching him closely.

“You saw it too,” Stiles said quietly.

Liam whipped around to look at him. “What?” he asked.

“His face. You saw it too. It’s like – it’s like pure evil,” Stiles said.

“Like he’s barely even human,” Liam agreed.

“But why does he trust you?” Scott asked Liam.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.” It made no sense. Raeken had been singling him out since the beginning. Liam may have become more dedicated to his case than most, but he was hardly the only one dead set on catching Raeken.

“Okay,” Stiles said, “Okay. Maybe we can use this. If we let him work with Liam, and Liam relays everything back to us – _everything_ ,” He looked meaningfully at Liam, who nodded, “Then maybe we can keep up.”

“He’s going to know, though,” Scott frowned, “He’ll expect Liam to tell us everything.”

Stiles pointed a finger at Scott. “Unless he can convince Liam not to tell us. Which he can.”

“How does that make it better? If he convinces me not to tell you –“

“You have to remember the look on his face, Liam. He doesn’t have a soul. He’s not going to prison at the end of this if he gets his way, no matter what deal he signs. He framed me for murder. He almost killed my dad. He got _Scott_ not to trust me.”

Liam thought about Mason and how their friendship had fallen by the wayside as Liam became more and more focused on catching Raeken. Maybe it was already starting.

“I can do it,” he nodded, “I’ll tell you everything.”

“Okay,” Scott agreed, “Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry!!! I know it's so anti-Theo, but I promise it gets better! Please don't hate me!


	10. Lydia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I didn't think I was going to do it, but here's a Tuesday update (and in the morning too since I'm going skiing all day - and yes I will be thinking about Thiam being cute in Black Diamond probably the entire time...). 
> 
> For those of you (if there were any) who were upset about the way Theo was depicted in the last chapter, I will tell you that Lydia always seems to know people better than they know themselves, so she has a little insight here to start smoothing him out. I also have the next chapter written, where Thiam has to team up again, and then a chapter from Theo POV after that, which I'm really excited about. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you for all of the support and basically for just being amazing :) And yes there will be an update on Thursday as well!
> 
> Enjoy!

Lydia had a feeling from the second that she woke up that the blissful calm of her morning wasn’t going to last, but she planned on making the most of it anyways. She had to, on days like this, when she wasn’t sure when the impending storm would clear away.

“Hey,” Stiles said, stroking a hand through her hair as she dozed on his chest in the soft morning light of their bedroom, listening to the steady beat of his heart, “Everything okay?”

“I just have a feeling,” she sighed.

“A bad feeling.” It wasn’t a question. She could hear him frowning and tilted her head to look up at him.

“I’m not psychic,” she reminded him, “It could be nothing.”

“Lydia, if you won’t trust your intuition, I will,” he said, scooting out from under her and crawling out of bed, “I think this calls for pancakes.”

She smiled after him for a second, watching him pick his underwear off of the floor and pull on a pair of sweatpants. Lazy mornings with Stiles made her happier than anything. The sun would stream into their kitchen, glancing off of the exposed brick walls, and Stiles would carefully water all of their plants as Lydia scrolled through Spotify, looking for the perfect playlist. There had been a long time in her life where she tried to be someone else or to pretend that she didn’t care how lonely she felt. She had resisted Stiles for so long. He had seemed just like all the rest at first, but they had both grown up so much, and suddenly being with him seemed inevitable and wonderful and perfect.

She smiled again, shaking her head to herself, and rolled out of bed, pulling on her own underwear and Stiles’s shirt, and tying her hair up in a messy bun. For now, at least, everything could be okay.

“I think our aloe is dying,” Stiles said when she walked into the kitchen, frowning adorably over a potted plant.

“It’s not dying, Stiles. I think it needs to be in direct sunlight,” she told him, scrolling through her phone.

Stiles squinted at her for a second and then shrugged and moved the plant to a different table in front of the window.

“What kind of pancakes do you want?” he asked.

“Mmm…” she kicked her feet against the cabinets under the counter that she was sitting on, “Banana.”

“Again?”

“What? I like bananas,” she pressed play on _It’s Strange_ by Louis The Child.

“You didn’t used to,” Stiles muttered.

Lydia shrugged easily, slipping off of the counter to join Stiles where he was assembling ingredients by the stove. “Tastes change,” she said happily, “I like bananas now.”

“Okay,” he smiled, pulling her in for a kiss, “Nice song choice.”

“It makes me think of you,” she told him, pulling back just enough to give him the full view of her wide smile.

“I love you,” Stiles murmured against her lips, nearly distracting her from how badly she now wanted those banana pancakes.

It was always just when everything was at its happiest that things took a turn for the worse. Stiles and his dad liked to joke that Lydia was psychic, but she tended to think of it more as noticing the patterns of the universe. The world worked in a certain, very exact way, hence things like the Fibonacci Sequence. It was like regression to the mean. Nothing could ever be all bad or all good; it was an endless cycle, flowing from one to the other and everything in between. Lydia just happened to be very good at knowing where in that cycle they were.

Ironically, she had been thinking, as she and Stiles danced and sang along to Prince a few songs later, flipping pancakes intermittently, making each other smile, that this may have been one of the happiest moments in her entire life.

“ _You don’t have to be rich to be my girl,_ ” Stiles sang off-key, wiggling his hips as he flipped a pancake, “ _You don’t have to be cool to rule my world._ ”

Lydia hopped around, singing into a wooden spoon, knowing she probably looked like a mess, but never having felt more beautiful. “ _I just want your extra time and your –“_ Mad flailing, “ _Kiss_.”

The buzzer to their apartment rang. Lydia felt her heart drop, but lowered the volume, and said, “I’ll get it,” on the way to the intercom.

“It’s us,” Malia’s voice echoed through the box.

Lydia buzzed her up and then disappeared into their room to put on some pants and grab a shirt for Stiles while he shoveled the rest of the pancakes onto a plate. He was just letting Malia, Scott, and Braeden in when Lydia came back out, throwing a shirt at his head on the way to the table.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” she asked, helping herself to pancakes as the others joined her.

“No. Are those bananas?” Scott asked, sitting on Stiles’s other side.

“Good thing we made so many,” Stiles grimaced.

“So, what happened?” Lydia jumped straight in, both to her breakfast and the real reason for the other three being there.

“We’ve been talking about the Desert Wolf. We wanted to run some things by you…I thought you didn’t like bananas,” Malia frowned.

“Tastes change,” Lydia repeated, “But that’s not the point. What about the Desert Wolf?”

Scott and Malia both looked at Braeden who sighed. “I just want you to know that I don’t condone this. But Theo Raeken gave us some information on her, and he claims that he can help when we want to go after her.”

“He would let you use him as bait?” Stiles asked in amazement, jumping, as usual past several levels of deduction straight to the heart of it.

“He wants her gone just as much as we do,” Scott said, but Lydia noticed the slight furrow in his brow, the way he glanced at Malia when she wasn’t looking. He didn’t like the idea either.

“But it’s Raeken, man,” Stiles reminded him, “We can’t trust him.”

Malia looked imploringly at Lydia. “Please,” she said, “Can you just, I don’t know, run some algorithms? You _know_ people, Lydia. If there’s even a chance –“

“I’ll try,” she sighed, “But I’ve had a bad feeling all morning...I’m not sure now is the time to be trusting Theo Raeken.”

“What information did he give you on her?” Stiles asked, as Scott frowned in worry. For Lydia’s part, she wasn’t sure how much it would matter what she and Stiles said. Malia had been after her mother since the day she had realized why she had grown up with adoptive parents in witness protection.

“A way to find her,” Braeden said, “Background, the best ways to take her down. It doesn’t make it all that much less dangerous, though.”

“Give us the afternoon,” Lydia said, “We’ll find out as much as we can for you.”

“Does Liam have anything yet?” Stiles asked Scott.

He shook his head. Their plan, when Stiles had explained it, had sounded good in theory. Almost all of Stiles’s theories did, but the heart wasn’t easy to account for. The brain was logical. Lydia could write algorithms on logic all day, but the heart ran on pure emotion. Even Theo Raeken’s, as black as it often seemed to be. She kept it to herself, but it was a bit funny to her that the boys couldn’t figure out why Raeken trusted Liam. The heart wanted what it wanted, no matter how strange. She looked at Stiles, who smiled back at her. There was no accounting for it.

 

“Are you feeling okay?” Stiles asked when Lydia came back into the office, after peeing for probably the tenth time since they had gotten in.

“Yeah,” she frowned, “I just had to pee again. I’m very hydrated today.”

Stiles’s eyes narrowed like they always did when he saw a case he wanted to solve. “Uh huh,” he said, unconvinced.

“This is why I don’t like eating with Scott,” she said, crossing over to her drawing board.

Stiles didn’t reply for a moment, but finally said, “Lydia, he’s like a foot taller than you. You probably shouldn’t be trying to match his water intake.”

“No,” she agreed, already becoming absorbed into her algorithms again.

It was a difficult decision. They usually were. Lydia didn’t want to trust Raeken. After what he had done to Stiles and everyone around him, it was unlikely she ever would, but she had to see things from his perspective if she wanted to make the right decision. There was no reason that she could see for him to stab them in the back, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t…god, she had a headache.

“You don’t look so good, Lyds,” Stiles was frowning at her in concern again.

“I’m fine,” she sniffed, trying to focus again.

“You can do this from home, you know,” he said carefully.

She sighed, crossing the room to sit in his lap. “Maybe,” she admitted.

“I’m serious,” he curled his arms around her, “I’ll bring something home for dinner.”

“Okay,” she relented, “I think I’m going to stop at the drugstore on my way home. Do you need anything?”

“Just for you to feel better,” he kissed her, “I’ll see you at home, okay?”

“Okay,” she kissed him again, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS - can the beginning of this chapter just be my life? The music they are listening to is It's Strange by Louis the Child ft. K.Flay and Kiss by Prince. I'm not sure how I feel about using music in fics like this, so let me know what your opinions are. Usually I don't like it, but this chapter was just really aesthetic to me, and music kind of goes with that. Idk, let me know what you think :) Also go listen to those songs if you feel like it, cause I love them both a lot and they both feel very Stydia to me


	11. Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to happen! I am pretty sure at this point that this is going to be 15 chapters, hopefully ending up somewhere around 30-35k. The next chapter will be Theo pov, and then we'll have Liam, Scott, and then finish with Liam again. Also, I think that Tracy is kind of ooc in this fic, but I sort of feel like she kind of needs to be? Oh well.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was hard for Liam to act like everything was okay, especially after punching Raeken, but he seemed to have decided to camp out at Liam’s house, so there wasn’t much room for error. Liam hadn’t seen that ugly soulless look, or any hint of it since he had punched him. Mostly Raeken worked with various people at the office or talked on the phone, sometimes taking Liam out with him to meet his people in person, trying fruitlessly to find out more about the Dread Doctors’ project. After realizing that Liam’s idea of cooking was reheating leftover take out, he also commandeered the kitchen “until further notice”, which…well, Liam wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the sight of Theo hovering over his stove, whistling as he sautéed vegetables in a pan. It was giving him whiplash. If Raeken was trying to get Liam to trust him by insisting on cooking all this healthy shit, though, he had another thing coming.

If anything, it was weirdly domestic. Liam had never been so on edge in his daily routine, sitting down to dinner, waiting for some sign that things were not okay.

“There’s one more direction we could take,” Raeken said thoughtfully, swirling spaghetti around his fork while Liam watched him in anticipation.

“Which is?” he prompted, when nothing Raeken didn’t seem to be inclined to continue his train of thought.

“Tracy,” Raeken said, the name bringing the corners of his mouth down ever so slightly, “She’s smart. She knows more than she lets on. There has to be a reason she’s selling.”

“What was she, your girlfriend or something?” Liam grumbled.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he told him.

Liam restrained himself from mimicking him back to his face like an immature child. It was a near thing, though. “Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, “Why do you think she would know what’s going on if nobody else does?”

“She’s almost as ambitious as I am,” he said, “And she hasn’t been talking to me. They have to have something that’s keeping her working for them.”

“How do you know they aren’t just using her to kill people, like with Corey?” Liam added.

“That’s what the Desert Wolf’s for,” Raeken pointed out.

“Okay, but if she’s not talking to you, how do we find her?”

“I’ll go to my apartment. She’ll know I’m there,” he picked up his empty plate and carried it to the sink.

Liam dropped his fork onto his plate. “You’re not going alone,” he said.

“She won’t come if you’re there,” Raeken said, dropping his plate into the sink and turning to lean his hips against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

“I will punch you in the face again,” Liam assured him, “I’ve only gone to one anger management class in like two months and I’m pretty sure they don’t work that fast.”

Theo smirked and reached out a hand towards him. “Come here,” he said.

Liam frowned, but followed the impatient beckoning of Raeken’s hand, unsure of why his heart was suddenly beating so fast. Probably Raeken wouldn’t kill him. He might not even hurt him. Then again, maybe he was still mad about the black eye and – Liam’s brain short-circuited when his hand was suddenly, unceremoniously grasped within Theo’s being brought up to the bruising around his eye and _pressed_. Liam felt Theo wince under his fingers, but he kept the pressure firm so that Liam could feel the bone just under his eye. He ripped his hand away, glaring at Raeken.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded, face heating up, “Why did you do that?”

“I’m not mad about you punching me,” he said softly.

“Well maybe you should be,” Liam spat, “Because that would be _normal_.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not coming with me anyways.”

“See if you can stop me,” Liam challenged.

The smirk was back on Raeken’s face. “Do you want to know why I like you, Liam?” he asked.

“I don’t really care,” he lied hotly.

“Because you don’t let other people slow you down. Rules can bend, anger can take over. Nothing will stand in your way once you decide to do something, even if other people think it’s the wrong thing to do.” There was still no ugly absence of humanity, but a fire was burning in his eyes, almost pulling Liam closer like a very stupid moth.

“If this is your way of trying to tell me that I can’t –“

“Don’t be stupid. You can come. I know another way to get Tracy to meet us there,” Theo slid around him, digging his phone out of his pocket as he went, leaving Liam in the cold and the dark, in more ways than one.

 

“You’re sure she’ll come?” Liam asked as Theo wrenched the door to his loft open.

“Yeah,” he grunted, standing back to let Liam clear the apartment.

He nodded and gestured for Theo to come in, not holstering his gun yet. Theo slid the door closed behind him again and moved inside to collapse onto the couch. He seemed to sink into it with a weight too heavy for his body, and Liam wondered if he was seeing some new side of him, filled with anxiety and stress, maybe a little scared.

“This is so much better than your couch,” Theo explained unconvincingly when he saw Liam watching him.

“Impossible,” Liam said.

“No, seriously. Try it.” He moved over a little, giving Liam room to holster his gun against the advice of the little Stiles in the back of his head, and sit down.

“I still say it’s not that much better,” Liam insisted.

“Well then you’re an idiot,” Theo smiled across at him. Not smirked. Smiled.

Liam looked around the apartment to give himself something to do. It wasn’t much different from the last time he had been there with Malia, except maybe a bit neater and less lived in, which it was, because Theo was currently living on Liam’s apparently objectionable couch.

A sound came from the other side of the apartment. Liam drew his gun again, but Theo didn’t move, still slouching against his precious couch.

“It’s just Tracy coming in through the skylight,” Theo said, looking deceptively at ease.

“ _Through the skylight?_ ” Liam echoed. The inside of Theo’s loft was surprisingly nice, but as far as Liam could tell the entrances and exits made absolutely no sense. Maybe all drug lords had homes like this, though. Liam wouldn’t know. Theo was the only one who’s apartment he had ever been in.

“What, you think I come up that rusty old fire escape every time I want to go home?” he raised his eyebrows.

“So you come in through the skylight instead?” Liam asked incredulously, wondering where exactly his brain had disconnected from the conversation.

“There’s a better way down from the roof,” Theo rolled his eyes, like _that_ made any more sense.

“Theo?”

Liam turned to see a beautiful girl with dark hair falling down past her shoulders. She was dressed all in black, in tight jeans and a leather jacket, with a long silver pendent around her neck.

“Tracy,” Liam watched the corner of Raeken’s mouth curl upwards, “Glad you could make it.”

“Who’s this?” she demanded, looking at Liam.

“Liam Dunbar. I told you about him, he – “

“Yeah, I know,” she rolled her eyes and helped herself to one of the chairs across from them. Sitting comfortably without even bothering to ask Liam to put his gun away. “What I don’t know is why you think I’m going to tell you anything.”

“I was just intrigued,” he put his charming expression on. Suddenly, Liam was reminded of how easily Raeken could switch out his masks, and what he really looked like underneath. Tracy probably knew about that face too. Probably she knew about all of Raeken’s faces. “I couldn’t imagine any reason you would be selling when you so obviously should be working at the very top.”

“Be carefully with your flattery, Theo,” she shot back with a sweet smile, “You wouldn’t let me anywhere near the top.”

“I might have,” he leaned forwards, bracing his very strong arms on his knees, “You just didn’t give me time.”

She snorted. “That’s funny, sweetheart, really,” she told him, “But I have better things to do than play second to you. And if you ever thought that we were more than – “

“Then tell me what you’re doing with them,” Raeken exploded. He didn’t stand up, but it was a near thing. His eyes were wild again, glinting gold in the light of the setting sun. Like the eyes of a wolf, Liam decided, or a coyote.

“They’re making something that you can’t even imagine. And with the Beast in charge – “

“Sebastien?” Raeken drew back in surprise.

“What, you thought he was dead?” she asked, looking amused.

“No,” he said quickly, “But I thought I heard – “

“You heard right,” she smiled, sickly sweet, “The Ghost Serum. It’s already in circulation.”

This time, Raeken did stand up. Liam had been frozen, still was, gun trained on Tracy, brain reeling to catch up to the conversation.

“Tracy, you have to –“

“I know what I’m doing,” she snarled, “This is bigger than your little drug operation. Even if your friend Liam here and everyone at the FBI manages to catch the Dread Doctors _and_ the Beast, they’ll still be ten steps behind. I have to say, I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t figure it out earlier.”

Theo recovered quickly. “Fine,” he said, “Then get out.”

“Gladly,” she glared at him as she got up and left in the same direction she had come. Raeken seemed to be listening for something, but after about a minute he relaxed.

“She’s gone,” he said.

“What the hell?” Liam asked, “What just happened? Who’s the Beast? What’s the Ghost Serum?”

Raeken sprang to his feet, running a hand through his hair and started to pace. He didn’t answer Liam.

“Hey!” Liam shouted, jumping to his feet as well, “You have to tell me! What’s going on?”

“I don’t _have_ to tell you anything!” Raeken snapped back, “I’m going on my own from here. Don’t try to follow me.” He stalked in the direction that Tracy had come and gone through, Liam hot on his heels.

“I thought you wanted back-up,” Liam called after him.

“Yeah. I want my backup alive in case I need you later,” Raeken said, “Now stop following me.”

Liam had followed him into a bedroom with a huge skylight and a soft-looking bed covered in a white comforter. A ladder leaned against the wall, leading to the edge of a skylight.

“This is the worst front door ever,” Liam told him, momentarily distracted.

“Yeah, thanks,” Theo grumbled, moving towards the ladder.

“Hey, wait!” Liam grabbed the back of his shirt, which, in retrospect, was probably a very, _very_ bad idea. “You’re not going without at least telling me where.”

“You. Are not. In charge of me,” Raeken ground out, wrenching himself out of Liam’s grasp and turning to push him violently against the brick wall.

“I kind of am,” Liam shot back, “You cut a deal with the FBI. I don’t care if I don’t have enough to get you a life’s sentence right now, I’ll arrest you for whatever I can get if I have to.”

Cold fury blazed in Raeken’s eyes, but his grip on the front of Liam’s shirt eased up slightly, and he leaned in closer. For a wild second, Liam thought that Theo might kiss him, but then he was being slammed back so heavily into the wall behind him that his vision went for a second or two. It was enough time for Raeken to release him and start towards the ladder, where Liam, stumbling a little, caught up with him, yanking on his arm to pull him backwards and then, for the second time in a week, punching Raeken hard across the face, this time (accidentally) with his gun still in his hand. He had enough time to hear the crunch of cartilage and Raeken’s cry of pain, to see the first drop of blood trickle down from his nostril, and then there was a searing pain across the side of his head and he was out cold.

 

Somehow, Mason was there when he woke up, leaning over him with Corey hovering just out of focus.

“Dude, what happened?” Mason asked, helping him to sit up against the side of Raeken’s bed, “Was it Raeken?”

“He just lost his mind again,” Liam said, reflecting that he really probably should have seen this coming, “We have to find him! I think he was going to do something –“

“Hold on just a second, okay Liam?” Corey said, kneeling down next to Mason and shining a light in Liam’s eyes, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two,” Liam said impatiently, trying to ignore the raging headache the had started to take over. “We have to – wait, how did you find me?”

“Lydia had a feeling today,” Mason said, “Like something was about to happen. Something bad.”

“And you thought it had to do with me?”

“Well, with Raeken,” Mason admitted, “But you weren’t home, so we thought to check here.”

“I think you’re okay,” Corey said from behind Liam, where he was inspecting the side of his head, “You probably have one hell of a headache, though, huh? Does anything else hurt?”

“Literally everything,” Liam grunted.

Corey snorted. “I’ll see if this asshole has any Advil,” he said, squeezing Mason’s shoulder on the way past him out the door.

Liam still felt the pressing urge to find Raeken, but instead he found himself apologizing. “I’m sorry, Mason,” he said, “I’ve been a horrible friend. There was Hayden and then I got so obsessed with catching Raeken, and then all of this happened, and Stiles _warned_ me, and I completely failed everyone. Again. And meanwhile your – Corey actually _died_ , and I didn’t even ask how you were.”

Mason had a mixed expression of sadness and amusement. “That was a little not cool,” he admitted, “But you had a lot to worry about too. And I know it’s hard for you to see me with Corey sometimes after Hayden, but you have to know it’s not your fault that Raeken got one over on you. You know that, right? It’s what he does.”

“I still shouldn’t have let him come between us,” Liam insisted, “You’re not just my best friend, Mason. You’re like my brother.”

“And you’re mine, dude. Did you really think I was going to get mad at you for being distracted by your job?”

“Some people do,” Liam muttered.

“Yeah, well you’re stuck with me,” Mason assured him, pulling him carefully into a hug. Liam held on tightly, burying his face in Mason’s shoulder, and Mason held him just as tightly back.

“Should I be getting jealous?” Corey’s voice was softened with humor, as he came back into the room with a glass of water and a bottle of Advil.

“Nah, I don’t think I can compete,” Liam laughed, wiping his eyes which had become wet at some point, “Thanks, Corey.”

“Course.”

Liam downed the painkillers and chugged the glass of water. “We still have to find Raeken,” he said, suddenly feeling very drained.

“Why don’t we take it to Scott this time?” Mason suggested.

For once, Liam didn’t argue.


	12. Theo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! Part 1 is going to be finished NEXT WEEK! How crazy is that? But don't worry, there's still going to be a whole other part two (and I'm thinking possibly a short epilogue piece for after Black Diamond now, just so I can wrap things up more nicely, but we'll see how part 2 goes). In case that's confusing, Black Diamond is actually part 3, and Part 2 will be from Theo's POV in the same way that this one was from Liam's POV. Sorry if this seems like it's going on forever, but personally I love really long fics :)
> 
> Wow I have so many Theo feels today. I feel like trying to understand him is a constant struggle for me, but that's kind of what makes him interesting. Be warned: there are a lot of feelings in the next few chapters :) This chapter makes me kind of really excited for part 2. I hope you like it as much as I do!
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me throughout this crazy fic! I can't even tell you how much it means to me!
> 
> Enjoy!

Theo had cleaned up the blood the best that he could. His nose still felt broken, but it didn’t look particularly crooked and nobody had stopped him or even looked at him strangely on his way to the elevator of the FBI office. He kept thinking about leaving Liam lying lifeless on the floor of his bedroom. It wasn’t that he was worried. Obviously. He didn’t worry about other people. That never got you far. But it was taking up a lot of space in his mind nonetheless.

Stiles’s office was dark when Theo walked onto the main floor, passing Liam and Mason’s desks on his way to the short staircase. That was good. Stiles had never trusted him. Not once. Lydia wasn’t there either, which wasn’t a surprise, but it eased Theo’s mind slightly. He had always been wary about how much Stiles could find out about him, but Lydia always put him on edge. It was like she already knew him. She read people well. Maybe even better than Theo himself.

The light to Scott’s office was on, but he wasn’t inside, and the door was standing open. Most likely, he, Malia, and the marshal were in Malia’s office or the conference room. That was fine. Scott he could deal with. He may not entirely trust Theo, but he trusted Malia and she was too distracted by rage and revenge to really be rational. Theo knew that the three of them were plotting to use him, but that didn’t matter. He was planning on using them right back.

He reached the closed door of Malia’s office and knocked steadily three times. The voices inside hushed instantly, and a minute later, the door was pulled open.

“It’s Raeken,” Malia announced, standing back to let him in. “Just in time.”

“Were you waiting for me?” he asked, frowning innocently.

“You offered to help us go after the Desert Wolf,” Malia said, “We were just about to leave.”

Theo glanced at Scott. “What, all of you?” he asked. He hadn’t been counting on Scott going. That could be a problem. By manipulating the people around him, Theo could usually get Scott to do what he wanted, but he had always been a wild card. He was too loyal, too fair and just to be manipulated on his own. If Theo ever wanted to bring Scott down (which he honestly had no interest in at the moment), he would have to turn all of his friends on each other and on him, and even then it was unlikely that it would work.

“Just the girls,” Scott said, “I can’t officially be a part of this.”

“You said you can find her, right?” Braeden, the marshal, asked, looking appropriately suspicious.

“Now?” he asked, letting himself look a little worried. People liked to see him with “human” emotions, like fear. They liked to think they had the upper hand or maybe they thought that the fraternity of humanity was enough grounds for trust. They learned otherwise quickly enough.

“ _Yes,_ now,” Malia insisted, grabbing her coat, “Can you do it or can’t you?”

“I can,” he said quickly, “I can.”

Scott pulled Malia back for a second as they left her office, Braeden shunting him along to give them privacy.

“Just so you know,” she told him, as they reached the elevators, “I don’t trust you.”

“Smart,” he nodded amicably, “I don’t trust any of you either.”

Braeden side-eyed him. “Yes, you do.”

He looked at her for a minute and then looked away. “If you’re talking about Liam,” he said evenly, “Then you’re not as smart as I thought. I don’t trust him either.”

She smiled slightly but didn’t say anything. Theo let his guard down around Liam when he knew that he ran no risks in doing so. Liam was his own agent, so he was the easiest to convince to help Theo if he needed it. There were certain things that he knew Liam would do, and he had followed Theo’s case so closely for so long that he almost seemed to _know_ Theo. Not the way Lydia looked right through him, or Stiles analyzed and calculated, or even the way that Tracy watched and listened. It was like Liam had just assimilated a knowledge of Theo. He hadn’t been trying and it wasn’t a talent, it was just something that had happened. Theo wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Part of him wanted to feel special that someone could know him so well without ulterior motive, a childish part that had gotten his sister killed. Another part said that it was too dangerous. People weren’t allowed to just _learn_ him like that. But Liam was under his skin. That he _could_ admit to.

“Okay, let’s go,” Malia said from behind him. Braeden pressed the button for the elevator.

“Well?” Malia looked at him expectantly.

“This way.”

They took public transportation to an old neighborhood in the warehouse district where a lot of Theo and his competitors’ business went down. There were large buildings easily rented or bought with little to no paper trail, and very few pedestrians. If there was something that you needed to get done away from private eyes, this was the place to do it. The streets were narrow and empty, litter occasionally lining the sidewalk in the main streets, alleys narrow, winding, connecting to each other in a maze that only the locals had memorized. It was dark now, with just enough light from the sparse street lamps to find their way.

Eventually, he led them to an old warehouse that stored firearms. It wasn’t used much anymore, but there were still boxes of weapons and ammunition piled in neat rows, almost to the ceiling.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Malia said quietly, looking around. Braeden glanced at her, adjusted her grip on her shotgun, and resumed her careful scan of their surroundings.

“I’m not sure going to meet an assassin who wants to kill you is supposed to feel _right_ ,” Theo pointed out.

Malia narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t get squeamish on me _now_ ,” she told him.

Theo didn’t reply, but he couldn’t shake the thought that maybe this wasn’t the way that he had expected to feel as his plans began to fall into place. Someone else might have called it regret, but Theo knew it wasn’t. Or maybe just not so simply. He didn’t like to lose assets before they had run out of use for him, but this time it was necessary.

“Look at you, Malia,” a voice said from behind them, “All grown up. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Malia spun around, and Theo took the opportunity that the distraction afforded him to wrench the shotgun out of Braeden’s hands, a shot or two going off as they struggled, and slam its butt into her head, knocking her out cold. Her body crumpled into a heap on the floor, reminding him horribly of the way Liam had fallen, lifelessly, gracefully, overcome by gravity.

Corinne was eyeing up her daughter with a dangerous look. She would kill her. Not for the first time, Theo realized that a death would be on his hands, but for some reason, it bothered him more this time. He had the distinct feeling that Liam was standing just behind him, arms crossed, that seriously judgmental expression on his face. He could do better. He almost turned to look, but that was ridiculous. At best, Liam was on his way to the office with a bump on his head. At worst…Theo wouldn’t think of that.

He could do better.

“Do you have it?” He asked Corinne.

She seemed annoyed by his interruption of her playing with her food, but she pulled a vial out of her pocket and tossed it to him. He caught it easily, inspecting the murky white liquid for a minute, before tucking it into his pocket. He was going to do better.

He turned towards Malia, who was glaring at him with the deepest loathing.

“You were using me as bait,” she spat.

Of course, he was. He wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. Whatever it was, it probably didn’t include the next part, seeing as Theo hadn’t been expecting it either.

“You’ll thank me later,” he whispered so low that he wasn’t sure that she could even hear it, then he turned Braeden’s shotgun on her and fired. It was loud, the sound echoing in his ears, and the recoil would probably bruise. Malia’s expression was mixed pain and astonishment. However little she had trusted him before, that was all gone now. But it was better than what would have happened to her if he had left her alone with her mother.

“ _I’m_ the only one who gets to kill her!” Corinne screeched as her daughter collapsed to her knees, hands trying in vain to keep the blood from flowing out of her stomach.

“I didn’t kill her, relax,” Theo told her impatiently, rolling his eyes.

There was a loud crash. Theo whipped around but was tackled to the ground in seconds, a familiar voice already reciting a familiar warning.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Liam said, hands forcing the handcuffs onto Theo’s wrists a little too tightly, “Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.”

“Liam,” Theo groaned into the concrete floor.

“You have the right to an attorney,” Liam insisted, voice rising. Theo could hear Mason’s voice across the room reciting the same words.

“I had to – she was going to kill her – “ he pressed.

“If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court,” Liam continued, as though he couldn’t hear him. For some reason completely unknown to Theo, he was desperate that Liam understand. He had been trying to do something right for once. It may not seem like it but shooting Malia had probably saved her life. Not to mention, he still had the vial of the ghost serum that had been  exchanged for delivering Malia to the Desert Wolf.

Liam pulled him to his feet. “With these rights in mind, are you still willing to talk with me about the charges against you?”

“Yes, but – Liam, _listen_ to me,” Theo demanded. The sounds of Scott comforting Malia were soft in the background. Liam’s eyes met his. There was a cold fire in them. Impenetrable. But Liam wasn’t Theo. He would listen. “I got a sample of the Ghost Serum. You need to give it to Stiles and have him and Mason figure it out. _Only_ Stiles, okay?”

“Why would I trust you this time?” Liam asked, expressionless. It was worse than his compulsive anger. “You keep proving to me over and over why I shouldn’t.”

“Because the Dread Doctors are still out there,” Theo said, “And what they’re doing is worse than killing people. You can’t trust anyone, okay? Just your team.”

“Stop talking,” Liam gritted out, retracing the path that Theo had taken with Malia and Braeden on the way in.

“Look, just take it, at least. It’s in my left pocket,” he insisted.

They continued to walk for a little, and then Liam yanked him to a stop, warm fingers slipping into the left pocket of Theo’s jacket. He felt a light pressure brush his side, and then they drew away again. Liam looked at the vial for a second and then tucked it away. “Keep walking,” he said, giving Theo a little push and not meeting his eyes.

It wasn’t how he had planned it. Not at all. He had never even considered allowing himself to be arrested, and he never thought that he would save an FBI agent, whether it looked that way or not, but he couldn’t say that he particularly regretted it. Maybe something in him, for some unfathomable reason, was starting to change. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.


	13. Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was serious when I said there were going to be a lot of feelings...and I edited tons of them out! Not sure how this happened...
> 
> Anyways, this chapter picks up maybe about halfway through the last chapter and carries on from there. The next chapter will be Scott's POV.
> 
> Enjoy!

“What do you mean they just left?” Liam demanded.

“Malia took Braeden and Raeken to go after the Desert Wolf almost half an hour ago,” Scott explained, looking very confused and slightly concerned, “Why? What happened?”

Liam exchanged desperate glances with Mason and Corey. “Theo’s up to something,” Liam explained, “We met with someone he used to work with and she told us about this thing that the Dread Doctors are making called the Ghost Serum, then he just took off. I tried to go after him, but he knocked me out.”

“Lydia,” Scott said suddenly.

“We thought this might have to do with that feeling she was having,” Mason nodded.

“It’s not much to go on,” Scott frowned.

“Malia could be in danger,” Corey piped up.

Scott nodded thoughtfully, and then grabbed his coat. “I can track her phone with mine,” Scott said, “Be ready to go in five minutes. I’m going to call Stiles.”

Corey followed Liam and Mason to their desks as Scott hit one on speed dial. “Do I get a gun too?” he smiled, leaning on Mason’s desk as he watched him check over his weapon.

Mason looked up quickly. “Oh, no. No, you’re not coming with us,” he told him.

Corey’s playful smile dropped. “What? Yes, I am! I want to help!” he insisted.

Mason set down his gun and took Corey’s hands in his own gently. Liam concentrated his gaze on his own weapon.

“Corey, I already watched you die once. I can’t put you in danger like that again,” Mason said softly.

“You think _I’m_ okay with letting _you_ die?” Corey asked incredulously.

“It’s kind of my job.” Liam glanced up to see Mason looking at Corey with a sad smile. “But I’ll be okay. I have Liam and Scott for backup.”

Corey opened his mouth to argue, but Mason moved forwards to kiss him. Liam looked away again to see Scott jogging down the stairs to join them.

“Corey! Perfect!” he said as they broke apart, “I’m going to have to ask a huge favor of you…”

 

They dropped Corey off with Stiles and Lydia, who were already deep into research and phone calls, Stiles already on his way out with his phone to his ear. Lydia immediately snapped Corey up, insisting he help her go through what little evidence they had on Raeken to find enough for an arrest warrant. Then they followed the directions on Scott’s phone to a deserted-looking warehouse.

“Stiles is rounding up backup from the police,” Scott explained before they got out of the car, “We could be cutting it close if something happens, but we’ll have some cops on standby. Keep your voices low and only use your flashlights if you absolutely have to. Our best weapon right now is surprise.”

They kept their voices low, flashlights off and guns in hand as they crept in through a side door. A series of gunshots went off, but there was no yelling and no return fire. They froze and looked at each other.

“Sounded like a shotgun,” Mason whispered.

“Braeden,” Scott agreed, motioning them forwards with a hand. They had just reached a turn where voices could be heard faintly around the bend, when another shot went off. A shout of pain that sounded very much like Malia sent Scott sprinting around the corner, Liam and Mason hot on his heels.

“Freeze!” Mason yelled to the woman holding the handgun, “You are under arrest!” She tried to escape, but Mason was quick, tackling her at the same time that Liam wrenched Braeden’s shotgun from Theo’s hands and knocked him to the ground.

“Theo Raeken, you are under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon,” he said, hands shaking slightly as he jerked the handcuffs onto Raeken’s wrists. It should have been easier. He had been waiting to arrest Theo Raeken for years. He was so unbelievably mad at himself for trusting him again. “You have the right to remain silent,” he recited, tightening the handcuffs just enough. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.” He had to calm down. It was stupid. It was _so stupid_. He had known better, and yet –

“Liam,” Theo pleaded. If Liam looked past him, he could see Scott clutching a bleeding Malia, brushing her hair out of her face with tears in his eyes. He didn’t talk about it much, but his high school sweetheart had been shot and killed too. She had been on the police force for under a year.

“You have the right to an attorney,” Liam pressed on with renewed vigor, raising his voice and determinedly _not_ feeling sympathy for Raeken.

“I had to – “ Theo sounded desperate now. For what, Liam wasn’t sure, “she was going to kill her – “

He couldn’t. He couldn’t listen. He _couldn’t_ trust him again. “If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court,” Liam continued, pulling Raeken to his feet, “With these rights in mind, are you still willing to talk to me about the charges against you?”

“Yes, but – Liam, _listen_ to me,” Theo demanded. Liam barely registered the sirens growing louder outside of the warehouse, red and blue lights flashing through the high windows. Without realizing he was doing it, his eyes found Theo’s. He felt anger and betrayal and maybe even a little sadness burning in his blood, but all he saw in Theo’s eyes was desperation and resignation. He was sure that Raeken had never planned on going to jail, but it hardly seemed to be bothering him much at the moment. Liam wondered vaguely what had changed.

“I got a sample of the Ghost Serum. You need to give it to Stiles and have him and Mason figure it out. _Only_ Stiles, okay?” Theo continued urgently.

“Why should I trust you this time?” Liam asked emotionlessly. He was just tired. So tired. He had been tired when Hayden left. That had been his fault too. Now, as mistake after mistake piled up on top of him, he felt exhausted. “You keep proving to me over and over why I shouldn’t.”

“Because the Dread Doctors are still out there,” Raeken insisted, “And what they’re doing is worse than killing people. You can’t trust anyone, okay? Just your team.”

“Stop talking,” Liam gritted out, pushing him back the way he and Scott and Mason had come, Mason having already disappeared in that direction with his perp. Braeden had been lying in a heap next to a stack of crates, but an EMT was kneeling over her now.

Liam was annoyed. It grated at him that, no matter how furious he might be at him, Raeken still had a point. He clearly knew what was going on with the whole Ghost Serum thing, but, Liam supposed, he could still give them that information from jail. _He almost killed Malia,_ his brain reminded him, _she might still die_. He frowned. _But didn’t he say he was trying to save her?_ Another voice popped up. His frown deepened. This wasn’t helping anything.

“Look, just take it, at least. It’s in my left pocket,” Raeken tried again.

It was a terrible idea. How many times did he have to trust Raeken and have it blow up in his face before he would learn not to? No, he wouldn’t trust him again. _But_ …but he could still take the evidence, right? He would give it to Scott and then Scott could decide what to do with it. That was what he should do anyways. That was proper protocol. He stopped in his tracks without warning, Theo jerked forwards, but then stilled, saying nothing.

Left pocket. Liam slipped a hand into the left pocket of Theo’s jacket, feeling much too close as the movement brought his chest almost flush with Theo’s back. The inside layer of the pocket was warm with Theo’s body heat, and he could feel the fabric shift ever so slightly with his breath. The scent of the light sweat that came with a summer day and moderate physical activity met his nose as his fingers found the smooth, cool glass of the vial. It…wasn’t the worst thing he had ever smelled. Not by a long shot.

He pulled the vial out of the pocket, giving it a cursory once over, before storing it in his own pocket. It looked more or less exactly how he would expect something called “Ghost Serum” to look: cloudy and white, swirling around beneath the glass.

“Keep walking,” he told Raeken, prodding him forwards towards the door that they had entered through. Cops and EMTs passed him as he escorted Raeken, who had now fallen silent, to a squad car. A uniform opened the door for him, and he considered letting Raeken’s head knock against the door frame a little, but decided against it at the last minute, gently guiding it away from the roof as he slid into the back seat.

“Liam,” Theo said, just as he was about to close the door. Liam paused and looked at him. There was a strange expression on his face, like he wanted – like he _needed_ to say something. “Be careful... I can’t protect you as well from jail.” His signature smirk followed the sentence, but maybe not quickly enough to be believable.

Liam wanted to be mad, but he found himself almost laughing, shaking his head, as he said, “You are so full of yourself.”

The corners of Theo’s mouth tilted up more fully, and Liam turned away quickly, leaving the officer to close the door on Theo.

 

He didn’t know why he was crying. He never cried, because crying was stupid and he usually ended up punching things instread. Maybe because everything seemed like it was finally over. Maybe it was relief. But that was stupid because everything was far from being over. There were still the court cases to get through and the Dread Doctors to put away and their Ghost Serum to investigate. He should probably try to track down Tracy too. He had never gotten a very good feeling from her. Besides, he didn’t feel relieved. He felt…he didn’t know how he felt.

He was curled on his couch, lights and TV off, in much the same position as he had been after Hayden had left, but he hadn’t made up a nest around himself of soft things and junk food. To be honest, he had a sneaking suspicion that Theo Raeken had thrown out all of his junk food. He felt like he hadn’t been in his own kitchen in ages.

“Hey,” a soft voice came from the doorway. For a second, he was convinced it was Hayden, but the bright strawberry blonde glowing like a fiery halo in the light of the hall was unmistakable.

“Lydia?” he sat up, feeling completely horrified that she had seen him at what was probably pretty close to his worst.

“Why are you in the dark?” she asked easily, turning on the light above the couch, giving him time to wipe his face and get himself together. He knew that she had seen, but she was good at pretending she hadn’t when she needed to. It was more than he could say for some of his other friends.

She set a tray with two large milkshakes down on the coffee table and took off her jacket before folding herself onto the couch to face him.

“Why are you here?” he asked, eyeing the drinks, “Why did you bring me milkshakes?”

“I can’t drink wine,” she replied lightly, picking up one of the milkshakes, “And I thought you could use company.”

“I spent almost my entire day off yesterday playing videogames with Mason,” he admitted, “Wait, why can’t you drink wine?”

She rolled her eyes. “You forget that I’m married to half of ScottandStiles, which basically means I’m married to both Scott and Stiles. I know how that friendship works. They don’t have to talk. Them being together is more or less the same as them being alone.”

Liam frowned in confusion.

Lydia laughed and shook her head. “Stiles told me he needed time alone the other day, so I went out shopping, and when I came back, Scott was there and had been there since like ten minutes after I left. I wasn’t even mad.”

“You mean because I don’t have to talk about anything with Mason,” Liam realized, “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Or maybe you don’t know what to talk about,” she pointed out, “Drink your milkshake.”

He obliged. Chocolate. “Theo gave me chocolate ice cream after Hayden left,” he found himself telling her, “He left it on my front step.”

Lydia was listening. Actually listening. There was no judgement on her face and she didn’t look like she was waiting for the chance to say something. He wondered vaguely if this was why girls always had wine nights. Or milkshake nights.

“I just…” he took a deep breath, “Like, we were never friends or anything. I knew the whole time that he was using me and he knew that I was using him back. I don’t know why I’m upset about it. Or even _if_ I’m upset about it. Just…I don’t know.”

“Sometimes…” Lydia said thoughtfully, “Sometimes things change too much too fast, and a hole gets left behind that gets filled by something else, but that’s only temporary. And then when that’s gone too, then you’re just left with everything that changed. It can be really scary…I’m scared.”

Liam watched her in surprise as she took another sip of her milkshake. “Lydia, are you…” He wasn’t sure how – they always told you never to ask, but –

She sighed in fond exasperation. “ _Yes_ , Liam,” a grin spread over her face like she couldn’t help herself, “I’m pregnant.”

Liam gaped. “Oh my god! How long? What – I mean, congratulations?”

She snorted with laughter. “Not very long. We found out like two weeks ago.”

“Aren’t you supposed to – “

“Wait? We would have, but Stiles had to tell Scott and Scott had to tell Malia. Not that I mind, but Malia and Scott will probably tell everyone, so it doesn’t really matter. I honestly think they might be more excited than we are.”

Liam smiled, but he felt massively conflicted inside. On one hand, the most amazing thing in the world was currently happening just across the couch from him, but on the other…he was still sad.

“It’s okay,” she said, seeming to sense his internal conflict. “Maybe you weren’t friends, but you care about him. If there’s one thing I know about Theo Raeken, it’s that he sends you on a rollercoaster of emotions. Good and bad. “

“I don’t… _want_ to be sad that he’s gone, but – “

“It’s just different?” she guessed. He nodded.

“That’s okay too,” she shrugged. They fell silent for a few minutes. It was surprisingly comfortable. Scott was always clearly his superior, but Liam was never really afraid of him like he was afraid of Stiles and Malia sometimes. He had never spent much one-on-one time with Lydia, so he supposed he had just transferred his fear of Stiles onto her as well. It seemed silly now. Lydia may be frighteningly competent, but she was on his side, an invaluable ally.

“Are you picking out names yet?” he asked, partly to distract himself, but also because he found himself suddenly wanting to bond with Lydia.

“Sort of,” she said, “I mean, we’re waiting until the second trimester to get serious about finding one, but _oh my god_ wait until you hear some of the ones that Stiles has suggested – “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats to manonlemelon and JannaLionheart for figuring out that Lydia was pregnant back in chapter ten! Nothing gets past you guys!


	14. Scott

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit of an information drop/filler chapter. Sorry about that, but it's kind of necessary. I'm not sure I did my Scotty justice either, but I always knew his chapter would be hard to write... Also, I really know nothing about court sentencings/proceedings and haven't watched a procedural detective show or whatever in years, so I apologize if all of that is extremely inaccurate. (If you let me know about them, I will be more than happy to try and fix any mistakes :) )
> 
> Next chapter is the last one of this part, and then I might need to take a week or two to start writing part 2. Just a heads up :)
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

It had been a long week. Malia had just gotten out of the hospital, but Scott was swamped with work for the Raeken trial, and all he wanted to do was go home and curl up with her and sleep for approximately 5 years. Okay, maybe not _five_ years, but definitely a long time. Deaton, the DA, had told him that Raeken could be facing as much as 120 years in prison, everything added up. Life in prison was a good motivator for providing evidence against people like the Dread Doctors. He was pretty sure that Raeken would talk, but getting together a fool-proof case of evidence and working out potential deals that they could offer him was draining to say the least.

 Liam acted like he was handling it well, but Scott could tell he wasn’t. That concerned him too, but at least Lydia had decided to take Liam under her wing. She was one person who was handling everything being piled up on her with any semblance of sanity. Stiles was just as swamped with work as Scott was, practically taking on the entire remainder of the Dread Doctor case himself, with help from Liam and Mason, and she was still working, around going to doctors’ visits, playing therapist to Liam, and keeping Malia from going stir-crazy. There was no way that was easy, but Lydia was incredibly capable.

He had just decided to call it a night much closer to midnight than he would have liked to admit, when his office phone rang. He dropped his head heavily onto his desk, considering not answering it. It rang again. Apparently he was incapable of not answering.

“Hello?” he picked his head up and massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Agent McCall, this is Captain Parrish – “

“Oh, hey, Jordan. Isn’t it a little late?” Scott scrubbed a hand across his face. Stiles’s dad used to be the Police Captain in Beacon Hills, and Jordan Parrish had been his top detective. When Captain Stilinski retired, Parrish had risen to the position of Captain almost as naturally as breathing. Scott and Stiles had known him since he had joined the department when they were teenagers. It might have been part of the reason that Scott had risen as high as he did through the ranks of the FBI – it was unusual for them to get along with the police, but he and Stiles worked effortlessly with Parrish.

“Very,” Parrish sighed, “But they just pulled a body out of the lake by the warehouse district. I thought you might want to have a look.”

“Do you have an ID?” he asked already tidying his desk and looking around for his coat. _Oh. On the back of the chair. Duh._

“Nothing concrete yet, but my detectives are thinking she might have been involved in the Raeken case.”

“I’ll be right there, thanks for the heads up.”

“No problem.”

“What’s the address again?”

 

He brought Liam with him, deciding that if he could get him out of the office, then maybe he could get him to go home after visiting the crime scene too. The silence on the car ride over was deafening, but it always seemed to be louder in the early hours of the morning anyways.

“Did he say if they’ve ID’d the body?” Liam asked for at least the third time.

“Maybe,” Scott replied patiently, “Nothing concrete yet.”

“Oh.” The silence stretched on.

“You don’t have to take care of me,” he said it almost too quietly for Scott to hear.

He risked a sideways glance at him before turning his eyes back to the road. He didn’t look sad or offended or happy. He didn’t seem to have an expression at all.

“You’re right,” Scott agreed, “I don’t have to. I want to. You’re my friend, Liam. And anyways, I’m pretty sure that nobody should stay in the office until 1am.”

“You were,” Liam pointed out. He had a point there. Liam sighed. “I don’t know, okay. Maybe you should just give me a temporary leave of absence or something.”

“Hey,” he pulled into a parking spot by the crime scene and looked Liam in the eye, “If you need that, that’s okay. But there’s nothing wrong with you. Just – don’t push your friends away too. We’re here to help you. However you need us to.”

Liam seemed for a second like he was going to argue, but in the end, he just nodded. Scott nodded back and turned off the car.

Parrish was waiting for them when they ducked under the yellow tape, holding up their badges to be let through. “This way,” he said, motioning them towards a gathering of people by the water.

“Hey,” Liam was looking back at the buildings around them, “I think this is pretty close to where – wait, that’s Tracy!” he was staring down at the bloated greying body now, eyes wide in recognition.

“Did you know her?” Parrish asked in curiosity.

“Yeah – no, I met her once. She worked with Theo Raeken,” he said, “But when I saw her, she was working with the Dread Doctors.”

Scott knelt to inspect the body, a gilt of silver metal catching his eye through the tangle of wet fabric. He pulled on a pair of gloves and lifted it up.

“She was wearing that at Raeken’s,” Liam said, crouching next to him. The metal was twisted strangely, but something about the shape seemed familiar.

“I think it’s a key,” Scott said, thoughtfully, “See how these parts all sort of form a shape?”

“Who makes a key like that?” Parrish asked, “Who _needs_ a key like that?”

Scott and Liam looked at each other. “Can I get an evidence bag, Jordan?” Scott asked.

Parrish nodded and disappeared. “Liam, I can talk to him – “

“No, I’ll go. I should tell him about Tracy, you know,” Liam shook his head, “I’ll take the key over tomorrow to see if he recognizes it.”

Scott frowned. He hated that Liam was still trying to act like nothing was wrong, but maybe it was just his way of dealing with it. Regardless, Scott had to admit that he was too busy over the next few days to interrogate Raeken anyways. He came straight home after the first court meeting, deciding that he could do whatever work he needed to from home for once.

“Hey, Malia!” he called as he kicked off his shoes just inside the door, not noticing the pair of shoes that were neither his size nor any of Malia’s various styles of boots, but sneakers on their last threads. “I brought some soup home from that shop around the corner from the courthouse. I didn’t know if you were going to want venison or vegetable, so I got both and also chicken noodle.”

There was no reply.

“Malia?”

A shout of laughter came from the other room and Scott ducked curiously around the corner, nearly dropping the soup at the sight that met him in the living room.

“Mom!”

His mom was sitting on the other end of the couch from Malia, snorting with laughter over a cup of coffee, which she immediately abandoned upon seeing her son.

“I’m sorry I didn’t check with you before coming,” she hugged him tightly, “But I just thought maybe you could use a hand around the house or something. I’m booked in a bed and breakfast, don’t worry.”

“No, Mom, we have an extra room. It’s so good to see you,” he held onto her for a little longer than he probably needed to hug his mom at 28 years old. But he had missed her. “You know you’re always welcome here.”

“You only say that because I wash your comforter and make your bed with hospital corners,” she laughed, releasing him so that she could take the soup from him. “Let me go grab some spoons for this.”

He looked around at Malia as his mom slipped into the kitchen. “Hey,” he said, kissing her and sitting in the arm chair near her end of the couch, “How are you feeling?”

“Like if you ask me that one more time, then I’m going to kick you in the balls and then we’ll never have kids,” she smiled at him to soften the words.

“Good to know,” he raised his eyebrows, “You’re okay with Mom being here?”

“Scott, I love your mom,” she told him seriously.

He kissed her again, longer this time. “I know,” he smiled, as his mom came back in, setting the soup, napkins, spoons, and slices of bread that she had dug up somewhere on the coffee table.

“So how was the trial?” she asked.

“Not terrible,” Scott told them, helping himself to the chicken noodle, suddenly glad that he had bought three bowls of soup on a whim. “Deaton told Raeken that he would likely be in prison for the rest of his life if he didn’t take our deal, so he’s cooperating.”

“He took the deal?” Malia asked doubtfully.

“He had to. We had all the evidence we needed after searching all of his hideouts. It’s better than nothing, anyways, he could even get parole eventually with good behavior. I never thought I would see Theo Raeken plead guilty though. It seems almost too easy.”

“Do you think he’s planning something?” his mom asked.

“I think he wasn’t planning on getting caught,” Scott admitted.

“Definitely not,” Malia agreed, “Is Braeden acting as a witness?”

“No, she went home yesterday. Early this morning? She said to say goodbye to you. Sorry, that totally slipped my mind.”

“It’s okay,” Malia took his hand with a soft smile as his mom watched them fondly.

“And how are Stiles and Lydia?” she asked, “I’m assuming I’ll see them eventually. I can’t believe they’re pregnant already.”

“They’re 28, Mom,” Scott reminded her, “That’s about how old you were when you had me.”

“They just seem so young,” she shook her head, “But I have to admit, I’m pretty excited to be a grandmother.”

“Stiles isn’t actually your son,” Scott reminded her with a laugh.

“Yeah, well. Close enough, and you two are taking too long.”

His mom was still there a few hours later, after Malia had gone to bed and immediately passed out, standing next to Scott in the kitchen, drying the dishes as he washed them.

“How is everything _really_ going?” she asked him out of the blue.

Scott sighed and set down the last plate. “I just feel like I don’t know what I’m doing half the time,” he confessed, “Or all the time, actually. I want to be there for Stiles and Lydia, and I want to be able to spend more time with Malia, but I feel like I’m _still_ not giving this case as much attention as it needs, and something’s going on with Liam, but he won’t talk to anybody about it – “

“Woah, hey,” she reached over and turned off the faucet. Scott let the utensils he was washing fall back into the sink. “Slow down for just a minute there, kiddo. You just need to take one thing at a time, okay? Even the best leaders don’t know what they’re doing all the time. You’re allowed to have help. You know that, right?”

“I do, and I have so much help already, but sometimes it all still feels like too much,” he sighed.

“Well, I may be biased, but I personally think that you’re doing a great job,” she assured him, “And I’ll hang around for as long as you need me.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he pulled her into a tight hug.

“That’s what I’m here for, kiddo.”

 

It struck Scott around noon that he hadn’t actually seen Stiles all day. He wandered into the office next door an hour later to see Lydia scribbling on her board as usual.

“Hey,” he said, “Where’s Stiles?”

Lydia shrugged. “Last I checked, he was working on the Ghost Serum in the lab,” she said, glancing over at him, “Why? Did you need him for something?”

“Not yet,” Scott felt himself frown, “I just feel like I haven’t seen him all day.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “I have faith in you that you can last twelve hours without each other,” she told him.

Scott sat at Stiles’s desk, figuring that just a couple minutes of not working wouldn’t hurt, and opened his salad. “How are you doing?”

She set down her pen and started stretching her hands. “I’m _fine_ , Scott. You know it takes nine months before the baby’s ready to be born, right?”

“I know,” he said quickly, “I wasn’t talking about that. I mean, unless you _wanted_ to talk about that?”

She laughed. “Relax. I’m fine. A little busy, a little stressed, I wish I could spend more time with Stiles, but I’m pretty sure we’re all in the same boat right now.”

Scott nodded. “You haven’t…had any bad feelings lately, have you?”

She frowned at him. “No. Did something happen?”

“I was just wondering. We still need to find the Dread Doctors and everything, you know?”

“Yeah…” Lydia said slowly, watching him closely.

He changed the subject quickly. “Have you been getting through to Liam?”

“Maybe a little,” she sighed, “It’s hard to tell what’s going on with him, but I just get the feeling that he could use a neutral friend.”

“If you’re willing –“

“I could use a neutral friend too,” Lydia teased, “Stiles is trying to get me to stop drinking coffee.”

“Yeah, maybe not the best time to be pregnant,” Scott smiled.

“I’m going to just come right out and say that that was _not_ my fault.”

“Noted,” he grinned. The phone in his office started ringing again and he pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll stop distracting you now.”

She smiled back and waved him out the door.


	15. Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of Part 1! I kind of can't believe it...This was all just meant to be a little fluffy, self-serving winter fic, but it has kind of exploded and I have you guys to thank for that! Seriously, your kudos and comments and subscriptions and bookmarks and just the loveliness of you all in general has made me so happy, you can't even imagine. I sometimes wonder how you can all bear to stick it out through this crazy fic, so...  
> ...That said, I apologize in advance for the ending to this part of the series. Keep in mind that there will be a part 2 coming in just a few weeks (I need to get my bearings on the first few chapters before I start updating), and that we already have a part 3 (Black Diamond) to refer to if you are feeling particularly stressed out :) 
> 
> In other words, I'm not actually sorry, I just love cliffhangers a lot (reading them and writing them!), so enjoy!
> 
> Love you guys!

Liam looked at the necklace in the evidence bag in his hand. Maybe it was just a necklace. What if Theo didn’t know anything about it? Maybe Liam shouldn’t have come after all…This had probably been another mistake.

But no. He wasn’t entirely sure what the relationship between Theo and Tracy had been, but obviously they had been close. He was going to hear about her death sooner or later, and it should probably be from Liam, because…well, he wasn’t actually sure why he had volunteered for this task. He mostly told himself that it was because Scott was ridiculously busy and shouldn’t have to be bothered with doing it himself.

A loud buzz jerked him back to reality, and he looked up to see Raeken being escorted to the chair opposite the glass from his. Without realizing he was doing it, his hands slid together to cover the evidence bag on the small table in front of him. Not that it mattered. As soon as he caught sight of him, Raeken’s eyes scanned over as much of Liam as he could see before making eye contact and never wavering.

They picked up the black plastic phone at the same time.

“I really thought it would take you longer to visit me,” Raeken told him, smirking, “Did you miss me that much?”

Liam scowled. Two seconds in and Theo was pissing him off already. “I came for information about this.” He held the evidence bag up to the glass, and Theo glanced at it and back to Liam before leaning in to inspect it.

“Where did you get that?” He said suddenly, jerking back to look at Liam again. “That’s Tracy’s.”

Liam’s annoyance immediately vanished as he remembered the other reason he had come. “I’m sorry,” he dropped his gaze, “She’s – we found it on her body…” he waited a second and then looked back up to see how Theo was taking the news. He didn’t look remotely surprised, but there was something verging  on sadness in his expression anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Liam repeated, “I know you two were…close…”

Theo nodded. “Not that close,” he contradicted himself, “I mean, physically intimate,” Liam winced, “But not – we mostly just used each other to get ahead as much as possible. There was a lot she didn’t tell me.”

Liam struggled to speak for a minute, glancing down at the necklace still pressed against the glass before looking at Theo again, his green eyes still glued to Liam’s. “So you don’t know what it is?” he asked finally.

Theo shook his head. “I know it’s important though. She started wearing it a few months ago, and I haven’t seen her without it since.”

“We think it might be a key,” Liam added, moving the bag around as best as he could so that Theo could see the necklace better, “Do you know of a lock that might take a key like that?”

Theo leaned close again. Liam had to admit, he was a little offended at how well Theo wore prison orange, not to mention he had somehow managed to acquire a jumpsuit that fit perfectly, pulling taught over his shoulders and arm muscles without looking too tight or hindering movement. It was unfair. Liam was pretty sure that if he ever went to prison, he would look like shit. His hair was even its standard level of perfect.

“It’s possible,” Theo said, bringing Liam out of his frankly embarrassing string of thoughts. “I don’t know right off the top of my head, though. Maybe I can send you a note or something if I think of anything.” He smirked, but to Liam, it was nearly transparent.

“Are you okay?” Liam blurted out before he could stop himself. It was weird. Even Theo looked taken aback.

“I’m – yeah, I guess,” he said, “It’s not so bad in here, you know…”

“I meant about Tracy.”

“Oh. Yeah. It was bound to happen. Sebastian kills everyone who works for him eventually.” It sounded far too casual to be believable.

“What about the Dread Doctors?” Liam asked.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if they turned up dead too,” Theo shrugged. “They’ve worked the most closely with him, but that’s not always a good thing. Having people close to you means you have a weakness.” His eyes had been wandering away, but they came back to rest on Liam’s again.

“Is that what _you_ think?” Liam wondered.

“I…don’t know,” Theo said, seeming slightly surprised by his own answer.

“Okay, well…thanks for the information I guess?”

Theo snorted. “Like I have anything better to do.”

They were done, but Liam didn’t put the phone down. Neither did Theo. “I guess I’ll see you at the trial.”

Theo said nothing, but pressed a hand to the glass, where Liam’s was still holding up the evidence bag. It was probably psychological, but Liam could have sworn he could feel the heat of Theo’s hand through the glace. Their eyes met, and Liam felt his stomach flip. He wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. After fractions of seconds passing at a glacial pace, Theo’s hand disappeared. His phone was replaced on its hook, and he was escorted away again. Liam still felt frozen by the gesture. He didn’t know what it meant. He hung up his own phone and watched Theo glance once over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

 

“Look, the guy fell in a vat of acid, Dunbar. It’s going to take a while to get an ID,” Finstock practically yelled across the morgue. Liam wasn’t offended. Finstock always yelled, which was probably why everyone called him Coach.

“Okay, but how long?” Liam pressed. There was very little to identify the body, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what Raeken had told him about the Beast killing off the Dread Doctors. He hated to agree with him, but it was all too logical.

“Dunbar, you are testing my extremely limited patience! I will call you when I have an ID, but until then, _stay out of my morgue_! Oh, and if you see Greenberg on your way out, you can tell him that he is the worst intern I have ever had.”

As far as Liam was aware, Coach had only ever had the one intern, who Liam had somehow never even seen before, but he was also not especially eager to make Finstock even more angry, so he left without mentioning it.

“Anything?” Mason asked, as he joined him from the direction of Captain Parrish’s office.

“Apparently it takes a while to ID a body that’s been dropped in acid,” Liam informed him.

“You got kicked out of the morgue,” Mason inferred.

“I got kicked out of the morgue,” Liam agreed.

“What now?” Mason asked.

“I don’t know. We keep an eye out for more bodies and split the rest of our time between research and the trials,” Liam shrugged.

“I went to Corinne Hale’s trial this morning,” Mason said, “She’s not taking a deal, even though we have more than enough evidence.”

“She’s not going to talk?”

“Not to anyone. There’s a reason the Beast had her working for him.” They swung outside through the main doors of the police department and started back towards their office. “Do you really think we’ll find all of the Dread Doctors dead?”

Liam grimaced. “Probably,” he admitted.

“What about Raeken?”

“What about him?”

“Have you ever thought maybe he knows more about all of this than he should?”

_Constantly,_ Liam thought.

 

Stiles swore loudly just as Liam was walking past his office. He stopped, doubled back, and poked his head inside. He was significantly less scared of Stiles since striking up a friendship with Lydia, but he still felt amazingly brave for doing it.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Someone’s been tampering with – “ Stiles seemed to catch himself and looked up, blinking at Liam in confusion. “It’s nothing,” he said quickly, “Just Super Spaz Stiles, you know.”

Liam looked around and then slipped into the office, closing the door behind him. Lydia’s station across the room was vacant.

“You think someone’s been tampering with the Ghost Serum?” he asked.

“No, I – “ Stiles looked at him closely, “Why do _you_ think that?”

Liam took a deep breath. “Raeken said, when he gave me that vial, that I could only trust you with it. I think he thought that someone was working with the Dread Doctors from inside the FBI.”

Stiles chewed on the cap of his pen, knee bouncing vigorously, then he stopped both very suddenly. “I think you might be right,” he said quickly, “I keep having problems with my research. Things are changed and my notes are altered. Sometimes I come back here and I could _swear_ that my things have been moved, but I know – I _know_ Lydia doesn’t touch my work things.”

Liam waited with bated breath as Stiles seemed to debate the rest of what he was going to say. “I thought it was just – “ he stopped. Liam noticed that his hands were shaking slightly as he cracked his knuckles. “I’ve been…forgetting things. I mean, like I’m just writing things down a lot.” He was swiveling back and forth in his chair. “I don’t know, but _something_ is going on.”

“Have you told Scott?” Liam asked, as Stiles went back to biting his pen.

“Honestly,” Stiles yanked the pen back out of his mouth, “I’m not sure why I told _you_.”

 

Liam was walking out of Raeken’s trial with Scott when he got the call. Theo had taken the deal and pleaded guilty. It was a good start. He and Scott had agreed, not two minutes ago that they would both take the rest of the day off, which they also both understood to mean that they would both work from home. Working on his couch in sweatpants was still better than sitting in the office in a suit. They really should have known that that was never going to happen.

“Coach says they ID’d the body from the construction site. One of the Dread Doctors. In the drug rings, he’s known as the Pathologist,” Liam summed up as soon as he was off the phone, “They also found another body stashed away in a warehouse, skull crushed and bullet to the heart. Looks like the Geneticist, another one of the Dread Doctors.” He glanced at Scott, who looked beyond tired. “You know what, I’ve got this. You should go home.”

“Liam,” Scott protested feebily as they walked out into the bright sunlight.

“No, seriously. Go home. Spend time with Malia. I’ve got this,” Liam insisted.

It didn’t take much more convincing to get him to go home, and then Liam was on his way to the police department.

“You should be on the lookout for a third body,” Liam told Captain Parrish, “My source said that the Beast is killing off everyone who has gotten to close to him and the Dread Doctors were right up there at the top.”

“Do you have a description?” Parrish asked.

“No. I’ve heard he carries a cane, but I’ve never actually seen them before,” Liam confessed.

“Okay,” Parrish nodded, making a note, “Thanks for the tip. Can I help with anything else?”

“I’ll let you know.”

 

Scott was trying not to panic. Lydia was in tears. Malia, newly returned to the office, almost entirely healed, was trying to comfort her. Liam didn’t know what to do.

“Maybe he put something online –“ Scott offered anxiously. They were in Stiles and Lydia’s office, which was completely torn apart in the search for any clue to Stiles’s whereabouts.

“No!” Lydia wailed, “He’s not – he’s not anywhere! It’s like he never existed. And this morning – “ she cut herself off with a sob as Malia made soothing sounds and Scott’s mom rubbed her back. “This morning, I woke up screaming – “ She took a deep, trembling breath, “Screaming like a banshee.”

Liam felt totally useless. Nobody had seen Stiles in days, which had been weird, but with their schedules, it had just seemed like ships passing in the night. Even Lydia hadn’t been worried at first, since Stiles had the habit of sleeping an hour or two at the office instead of going home at night when he was really swamped. Now, it seemed as though half of his notes, including everything on the Ghost Serum, had vanished, and every instance of his existence on the internet or the FBI database had disappeared.  Like he had never existed. Liam thought about the last conversation that he had had with Stiles and had the unsettling idea that maybe it had been the same person, whoever had been messing with his things, that had caused Stiles to disappear. But now there was nothing. No trail to follow. Even his phone, which had been left behind, was entirely wiped clean.

“We were having a baby,” Lydia gasped, tears still running full-force down her cheeks.

Scott knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. Tears were welling up in his eyes as well. “Lydia, you’re still having the baby. Stiles is still alive, and we’re going to find him. You know that, right? He’s my brother. Nothing else matters until we find him.”

She sniffed and nodded, biting her lip, and he pulled her into a hug. After a minute, she looked up from Scott’s shoulder, eyes finding Liam, and she released Scott slowly, saying, “Liam, could I talk to you for a minute?”

He followed her out into the hallway, trying at first not to look at her red rimmed eyes or the dark mascara tracks on her cheeks, but something about her silence commanded him to meet her eyes. Her gaze was fierce and determined.

“Stiles talked to you about something,” she said.

“What? How do you – “

“My husband is missing,” she snapped, “Don’t think I haven’t done as much research as it’s possible to do. I’ve hit dead ends everywhere. _Everywhere_ except for you.” Her expression softened somewhat into pleading. “ _Please_ tell me he told you something useful.”

It was impossible to deny Lydia at this moment, particularly after everything she had done for him in the past few weeks, but he wouldn’t have even if he could.

“He thought someone had been going through his things,” Liam told her quietly, “And Theo told me when he gave me the Ghost Serum – he made it seem like he thought someone in the Bureau is working with the Dread Doctors. Or the Beast now, I guess.” The last Dread Doctor, the Surgeon, had been found dead earlier that morning, but it seemed unimportant in the light of Stiles’s disappearance. “I’ve been thinking…maybe it’s connected.”

Lydia took a deep breath and grabbed his arm so tightly it hurt. Perfectly manicured fingernails were undoubtedly leaving little crescent-shaped marks in his skin. Tears were rolling down her cheeks again, but her expression was still beyond determined. “You go to Raeken,” she hissed, pointing a finger in his face, “You go to Raeken and you make him talk. You make him help you if you have to. A criminal consultant. It’s a thing. And this stays between you and me and Scott. And nobody – _nobody_ else can know, do you understand me?” Liam nodded quickly. “ _Say it_.”

“I understand,” he immediately assured her.

“Good,” she sighed, wiping her face, and turning back towards the office that she and her husband shared. “God, my life is a mess.”

Liam couldn’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't panic! Part 2/4 is coming shortly ;)


End file.
